Language of Love
by Tanista2
Summary: Daniel Jackson meets a kindred spirit at a conference. They part, then meet again under extraordinary circumstances. Nothing will ever be the same. (Ad Astra 'verse)
1. Conference

_Chapter 1 is definitely pre-movie for Daniel. Everyone else will show up eventually, never fear. Hope you enjoy!_

* * *

Dr. Daniel Jackson leans against the back wall of the elevator with a weary sigh, pinching at the bridge of his nose and wishing desperately for a nap.

Or at the very least a cup of coffee.

Honestly, whomever came up with that hoary old ivory-tower cliché obviously never witnessed a gaggle of horny professors and grad students downing drinks and partying until the wee hours in a hotel bar.

Not a pretty sight, especially the aftermath. The sound of his neighbors on either side throwing up into their respective toilets at three in the morning wasn't exactly conducive to a sound sleep, either.

He's definitely not a morning person.

Daniel finds conferences annoying anyway, preferring to spend his time in fieldwork and research instead of schmoozing with his peers. If appearances like these weren't practically _pro forma_ he'd never leave his cozy office at the university (which isn't much bigger than a broom closet, but at least it's his).

Even after the selection committee approved one of his papers for presentation, he persisted on dragging his feet; it finally took the severe threat of pulling funding for next year's dig at Saqqara to convince him to go. He hates playing office politics with a passion, but his precarious position in the department's his last chance to make something of his academic career. So here he is.

The car gives a slight jerk as it stops. Daniel straightens, starting to exit before realizing it's not his floor. He steps back in time for a petite young woman to enter, hefting a tall stack of papers almost reaching to her chin.

With one hand awkwardly wrapped around the pile she struggles to push a button on the panel with the other. The elevator starts up again and she stumbles. Papers slip from her grasp and she curses under her breath in a language he's sure isn't English.

(Not surprising considering the hotel's full of linguists for the conference, but that particular dialect she's using intrigues him.)

On impulse he rescues a few on the way to the floor. "Need some help?"

"Thanks. Guess I should've made two trips." She smiles at him briefly, before dropping her gaze down to the pile. A blush tints her pale cheeks.

"Where are you taking these?"

"Meeting room 2B. My advisor needs them for a round table discussion he's chairing."

"That's on my way. Why don't we share the load?"

"Oh! Thank you, but you don't have to-"

He divests her of almost half the pile, his long arms easily cradling them. "I don't mind. I remember having to act as beast of burden for my advisors duiring conferences, too."

The elevator stops. Daniel waits for the young woman to exit then follows her down the hall. The room is empty save for a single long rectangle table with chairs in the middle and a smaller table offering beverage service.

"Dr. Lyon's not here yet. I guess I'd better get these sorted before he arrives." The young woman sets her portion of the papers on the table and Daniel follows. "Thanks for your help. I really appreciate it." The blush deepens slightly as she glances at him, a small smile flirting with her lips.

He returns the smile, quietly amused at her apparent embarrassment. "You're welcome. See you around."

Lingering by the doorway, he watches her quiet, deliberate movements as she neatly sorts out the papers, unexpectedly taken by the inner strength and poise which belies her seemingly delicate appearance.

Soothing. Charming, even.

Watching her makes him feel a little better.

But he still needs that cup of coffee.

* * *

Becky Grahme shifts in her seat during the chairperson's introductory remarks, fidgets with her notes, stares out at the audience.

Only a year into the dual Master's program at UCLA (Linguistics and Cultural Anthro, after an accelerated undergrad program recommended by her mentors at the Phoenix Foundation). Still hard to believe Dr. Lyon actually believed one of her term papers could be a worthy contribution yet here she is, barely 22 and already presenting at her first academic conference.

Everyone's watching her. Prepared to judge every word she's labored on, crafting her precious theories into something she hopes is a valid contribution to her chosen field of study, maybe even enough to impress her peers.

Her heartbeat steps into double time and it's getting hard to breathe. A rising tide of panic threatens to overwhelm her. What if she's not good enough? What if she's laughed right off the stage?

Becky gives herself a mental shake. Enough already. Time to get a grip.

_Be brave_, she can imagine both her uncles saying, as clear as if they were right beside her. _You can do this._

Mrs. Avery- her redoubtable choir teacher from high school- had the perfect advice: find someone in the audience, ignore everyone else, and focus entirely on getting through to that one person. Once that's accomplished, the rest is easy.

She quickly scans the audience. A tall man stumbling into an aisle seat catches her eye, glint of silver-rimmed glasses followed by a mop of brown hair, sun-streaked blond in places.

The helpful, soft-spoken- and undeniably gorgeous- guy from the elevator.

As if aware of her gaze he looks up from the program in his hand, eyes widening with interest as he recognizes her. Nods and gives her a small smile.

Yeah, she can do this. Piece of cake.

A smattering of perfunctory applause. It's time.

Becky steps up to the podium, takes a deep breath, and begins her presentation.

* * *

The next morning Daniel's as ready as he can possibly be, considering yet another sleepless night. The last time he had neighbors who partied this hard every night had been during his undergrad years.

Everything's going about as well as can be expected.

Daniel defends his paper, laying out theories on the cross-pollination of cultures in the ancient world, backing up conclusions with his own translations displayed on the overhead projector. Mostly sticking to the topic, but every so often going off on a tangent or two that seems relevant at the time.

The audience is mostly receptive, though some are shaking their heads.

It's okay. His theories aren't exactly what one might call mainstream, yet he's got this gut feeling someday they'll be proven right.

The hieroglyphics of Naquada III sing to him, as nothing else does. So deceptively simple, yet he's certain particular words- or perhaps proper names- have hidden meanings concealing a deeper truth, lost to history.

(What do the words "Goa'uld" and "Jaffa" really mean, anyway?)

A few more months of research and results from the dig in Egypt are all he needs to complete the capstone for his third Ph.D. Not bad for a man his age, with two doctorates already under his belt.

Time for the Q&A. A few formal questions at first, which he takes care to answer with equal aplomb.

Then of course his chief academic rival- smarmy Dirk Sanderson from Syracuse- just has to stand up and start laying into him. Calling his theories complete garbage, sneering at the validity of his research, all that crap. Nothing he hasn't heard before, unfortunately.

He longs to return blow for blow but doing so would merely serve to diminish his already precarious academic reputation. It's all he can do as it is to stand stoically at the podium as the tirade continues.

Out of the blue after one particularly nasty slur the young woman from the elevator- who delivered a very intriguing paper the other day- jumps up and launches into her own impassioned verbal defense of his work.

Well. Maybe his theories aren't really as far from mainstream as he'd thought.

Daniel doesn't even have to add anything, Sanderson just stares at her, mouth stupidly agape. By the time the session's over she's got the jerk on the run. Literally, though not without him muttering a few curses and threats under his breath before leaving.

The audience disperses, leaving the two of them in the suddenly echoing room.

He quickly stuffs notes and transparencies into his briefcase without looking and steps off the stage. Approaches her carefully, as she's still a little stunned by her own outburst. "Hey, you okay?"

She blinks up at him. "Huh? Yeah, I'm fine. Though to be honest I'm not exactly sure what just happened."

"You mean, defending the honor of strangers isn't something you normally do?" He grins, to show he's not offended.

She blushes. "Not exactly. I didn't mean to disrupt your lecture. But what that guy was doing, dismissing your work like that..." She shakes her head in disgust. "I normally don't speak out in public, but I was just so appalled I felt compelled to say something. Why is it that supposedly brilliant scientists have to be so rude and obnoxious?"

Daniel shrugs. "Sanderson's a cretin, always has been. Don't worry about it. Besides, it's better than the response I usually get from an audience. Luckily no one wanted to burn me at the stake for my heretical thoughts this time."

She frowns, a small crease forming between her brows. "Why would anybody do that? Your theories make perfect sense to me, and the reasoning's sound enough."

"Unfortunately not everyone sees it that way."

Daniel doesn't know why he's not just leaving, seeking solitude to decompress as per usual. But he's oddly drawn to this petite young woman. There's something about her that feels familiar. Like a kindred spirit.

He decides to take a chance. "You still look pretty shaken up. Want to go somewhere for coffee?"

"Away from the hotel?"

"Why not? We're in Seattle, after all. Capital of caffeinated culture," he quips and she chuckles. "I'm sure we can find even a halfway decent place not far from here."

"Sure." She hesitates. "Um, mind if I ask you something really dumb?"

_Never stop asking questions. Even the dumbest ones can lead to the most amazing discoveries._

Dr. Jones taught him that, one of his favorite archaeology professors back in his undergrad days.

"I beg your pardon?" she asks, raising an eyebrow.

Belatedly he realizes he must've spoken out loud. "Sorry. What did you want to know?"

A flush tints her cheeks again. "What's your name?"

He blinks in surprise, then offers his hand. "Oh. Right. Daniel Jackson."

"Becky Grahme." A spark runs through him as she places her small hand in his.

She's cute in an attractive sort of way, and her eyes are awfully pretty, like the sky on a clear winter's day. Her glasses slip down her nose and he's seized by the impulse to reach over and gently push them back up.

Her clear interest in him (and his theories) is gratifying. Then again, he ought to be realistic.

After all, who could possibly be attracted to an awkward, bookish geek like him?

Maybe it's just his imagination.

* * *

The coffee shop's cozy and inviting. Rough red brick walls, warm wood, scuffed linoleum parquet. Tables, chairs and couches with an attractive patina of age. The smells of hazelnut, burnt coffee and baked goods. Soft jazz playing in the background.

Daniel's a perfect gentleman. Offering his arm to steady herself at the crosswalks, inclining his head to listen as if everything she says is of the utmost importance, opening doors. All the things that make her feel like a lady.

Becky collects her drink and chocolate croissant, follows him to a secluded booth. "You didn't have to pay for me. I mean, I've got money-"

He waves away her objections. "Consider it thanks for standing up for me. Also, sort of a 'welcome to your first academic conference' gift."

"How can you tell it's my first?"

"I have my ways." He sips his coffee, a touch of mischief making his eyes twinkle.

Neither of them are fond of small talk, so they soon slip deep into discussion without even realizing it, touching on a dizzying array of subjects, one idea flowing effortlessly into another.

At one point she waves a hand wildly to describe an especially interesting concept, knocking his coffee cup over. His hand brushes against hers as they both scramble for napkins to mop up the liquid; the heat from his touch zings through her body. She yanks her hand back, quickly.

He blinks at her, surprised. "Something wrong?"

God, why does she have to blush so easily? "Sorry about that. I get so lost in my thoughts sometimes I forget to pay attention to what's around me. My mom always used to say when one's eyes are on the stars it's important to keep one's feet on the ground. Guess I need to remember that."

"I get the same way myself, a lot of the time. Sounds like good advice for both of us."

Despite her physical ineptitude it's so easy being with Daniel; all of Becky's awkwardness has virtually melted away in his presence.

Which is unusual, to say the least.

She's never felt this comfortable with any other man before, except for her uncles. Could it be she's found a kindred spirit at last?

He's brilliant and gorgeous, with beautiful blue eyes regarding her kindly behind his own glasses and a gentle smile on those full lips. She suddenly possesses an irrational desire to run her fingers through his hair.

(Is this falling in love? She has no idea.)

Anything's possible, but Becky's a realist when it comes to her personal life. He couldn't possibly be interested in her in a romantic way.

She's too short, too shy, too awkward, too much the bookish nerd. Not unattractive yet not exactly a fashion plate, either.

_Keep your feet on the ground, girl._

At least the conversation's fascinating.

* * *

Daniel scowls down into the glass of scotch and wonders for the hundredth time what he's doing at this godawful party.

He hates everything about it. The oppressive crush of people. The stench of body odors masked by perfumes and cologne, mingled with alcohol. The appallingly loud music. The inane, insipid small talk and gossip making the rounds.

If it wasn't for the pressure by his peers he wouldn't be here. He thinks longingly of the quiet room upstairs, the comfort of books.

Not too far away he spies Becky standing against the wall, gazing miserably around her at the jostling crowd. Looking as desperate as he feels to be anywhere else right now.

He feels a surge of sympathy. Perhaps he should approach her, rescue her from this ordeal.

But as much as he enjoyed her company earlier in the day, he's worried she might get the wrong impression of his motives if he comes on strong. Maybe he should hold back for now.

Or maybe not. He frowns as a dark-haired man approaches her. Tall, abrasive and angry as hell over his earlier humiliation. Looming over her petite figure as he speaks and she pulls away, grimacing at the overpowering stench of alcohol on his breath.

Sanderson. Oh, joy.

Daniel's just close enough to hear her say, "Please, leave me alone. I'm not interested, all right?"

Sanderson glowers. "Think you can just yell at me and get away with it, huh? I don't like being yelled at. Especially by little brats like you." He staggers forward, she involuntarily steps back. "But I can be forgiving. How 'bout making it up to me with a dance?"

"No, thank you." Her response is more firm than before. "I don't want to dance with you, or do anything else with you for that matter. Go away, please."

"Think you're better'n me, huh? Just 'cause you sided with Ol' Four-Eyes Jackson. Say," Sanderson leans into her space, using his greater bulk as though to entrap her. "You're a four-eyes yerself, aren't you? No wonder you got nobody."

Becky glares at him but says nothing.

"Come on, just one li'l dance with me an' I'll forget the whole thing."

As he clumsily paws at her it's obvious even to Daniel the guy's incapable of standing on his own two feet, let alone dance.

"I said no!" Becky's putting up a brave front, but words alone are obviously no longer sufficient enough to ensure her escape. She frantically glances around for help, but no one nearby appears to be paying the slightest attention to her plight.

By now Sanderson's essentially backed her into a corner. He leans in close, murmurs something in her ear, most likely both deeply suggestive and offensive at the same time. Becky's eyes widen and she visibly pales. He takes advantage of her shock to grab at her arm and she struggles to get free.

That does it. Time to intervene.

Despite his anger, Daniel keeps his tone controlled as he steps towards them, unwilling to attract attention. "Leave her alone, Sanderson. Go pick on someone your own size."

The bully turns to him, a nasty grin spreading across his face. "Well, well. If it ain't Ol' Four-Eyes Jackson himself. The guy with the crazy theories 'bout aliens in ancient Egypt. What'cha gonna do if I don't, huh? Sic your pyramid-building aliens on me with their ray guns?"

"Look, let her go already. It's obvious she wants nothing to do with you."

"Make me, wimp," Sanderson sneers. "C'mon now, brat. You're coming with me."

He tugs at Becky's arm hard enough to bruise, making her cry out in pain. As he pulls her roughly towards him she abruptly turns and rams a knee straight into his groin. He doubles over with a muffled yelp.

Daniel takes the advantage to pull her away from him. "You okay?" he asks her.

"I'm fine. A little shaken is all." She glances behind him and blanches. "Oh god, he's getting up-"

Daniel turns, sees Sanderson glowering at them, uttering curses as he stumbles to his feet. He charges straight towards them, fists cocked, ready for a fight-

Without thinking Daniel steps into his path, blocking his advance with a right uppercut. Sanderson immediately crumples, knocked out cold.

Daniel steps back, momentarily stunned by his action, hand aching from the blow.

There's a tug on his arm. "Let's get out of here before we get into any more trouble," Becky urges quietly.

He allows her to lead him away, slipping through the crowd.

People- no doubt the same ones who didn't lift a finger to help earlier- watch them speculatively, immediately start chatting with each other.

Great. They'll be talking about this for years to come, he's sure.

There's nothing like the academic rumor mill to make or break reputations.

(Not that he cares particularly, but it's still pretty annoying.)

* * *

Another of Seattle's ubiquitous coffeehouses. A Bach concerto plays softly in the background, the classical music a sharp contrast to the shop's sleek and modern appearance. City lights begin to twinkle in the gathering dusk outside.

Becky's sitting opposite him in the booth, looking at him in concern. "You're sure you're all right? You seemed a bit surprised after hitting him."

"I'm fine," he reassures her. "It's just...Well, I like to think of myself as a pacifist. Hitting another person's completely unlike me. Even if he deserved it."

"You mean, defending the honor of strangers isn't something you normally do?"

He blinks at her in surprise then chuckles, recalling the same question he'd asked her earlier in the day. "No, not really."

"Well, thanks for defending me anyway. I really appreciate it."

"You're welcome. Though you dealt him a pretty good blow yourself."

She flushes. "Best I could think of, at the time. I wouldn't have been there, even, if I hadn't been pressured into going. I'm not good with social situations like these." She shudders. "Dealing with people's pretty exhausting. I need a lot of alone time to recharge."

Daniel nods in perfect understanding, sips at his coffee. Thinks of the quiet solitude of his apartment, the joy he finds in his work. "Me, too."

"I think I've always been an introvert. Runs in the family, my dad especially."

"He still alive?"

She shakes her head. "Car crash. My mom and older brother, too. Happened when I was 14. All three gone, in one fell swoop."

There's a sadness in her eyes, one he empathizes with all too well.

"I'm sorry," he says, as gently and earnestly as he knows how. "I know what that's like. I lost my parents as a kid, too. They were both archaeologists, there was an accident while setting up massive stone blocks for a museum exhibit."

"I'm so sorry," she replies with equal sympathy and gentleness. "Do you have any other family?"

"My grandfather, but he refused to take me in. To this day I don't know why." He shakes his head. "Never mind. I went into foster care after that."

"I've got two uncles, my mom's younger brothers. Twins, as it happens. One is a problem-solver of sorts, working for a think-tank down in Los Angeles. He was my legal guardian until a few years ago. The other's in the Air Force. Just made colonel after serving in Iraq."

"They don't mind you're not following in their footsteps?"

"Not at all. Both pretty great guys, each in their own way. Encouraged me to follow my dreams no matter what. I've been lucky." A small, fond smile. "Always had a gift for languages, and I like learning about other cultures, so linguistic anthropology seemed a good fit. What about you? Have you always wanted to be an archaeologist?"

He nods. "Something of a family tradition I guess, starting with my grandfather. All my life I didn't want to do anything else. Interesting work, and I enjoy it. So much to learn."

"I know what you mean. Three doctorates, have to say I'm impressed."

Daniel gives a self-depreciating shrug. "A real slog sometimes. Worth it, though. Mind if I tell you something?"

"What?"

"I'm glad we met, even if it was by accident."

"Me, too." Such a sweet smile.

There's an undeniable connection between them now, he's sure of it. He wonders if she senses it as well.

* * *

All Becky wants to do the next morning is hole up in her room for the day. Hope the rest of the world forgets about her.

So why is it she finds herself dressing to go out, taking the elevator up to Daniel's floor and knocking on the door?

After some grumbling he opens it, blinks at her. Blue cotton t-shirt and faded flannel pajama bottoms, floppy hair charmingly askew.

Adorable. Not to mention gorgeous.

She can just imagine snuggling up with him in bed, her head against his chest. Each reading their own book but occasionally sharing a kiss or two...

God. It feels like a flock of butterflies are loose in her stomach.

(Falling in love is _terrifying_.)

"Becky? What are you doing here?"

She mentally shakes herself. "Sorry, did I wake you?"

"No, I was just reading. Something the matter?"

"After what happened yesterday, I'm kinda afraid to face the music downstairs, and I really don't want to run into Sanderson again if I can help it."

He nods in understanding. "I don't blame you."

God, this is awkward. Best just to get it all out. "Thing is, I thought about spending the day in my room but I'm staying with a couple others and they've got awful hangovers. The last time I visited here was as a kid with my parents so I'm not going to the usual tourist sites. Care to come with?"

Daniel blinks at her, and she worries she's crossed a line. He's a fellow introvert, after all. She should know better than invade his private time like this.

Is this why she's so lousy at relationships? No sense of timing?

Maybe this wasn't such a good idea.

She sighs. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to intrude. I'll see you later-"

"Hey. It's okay." He reaches out before she can fully turn away, gently clasping her arm. She's surprised, but makes no move to shake him off. "You just caught me by surprise, is all. What do you have in mind?"

"Oh, you know. Museums. Bookstores. That sort of thing."

There's that twinkle of mischief in his eyes again. "Playing hooky today sounds like fun. Let me get dressed."

* * *

Becky's silent as they take a taxi back to the hotel, her mind in a turmoil.

A very enjoyable day, overall. Plenty of intriguing museums and bookstores around the city to explore. Nothing blooming this early in the season, so neither of them have to worry about seasonal allergies.

Daniel's been wonderful company the whole time, kind and attentive, humorous and insightful. There's a difference of several years between them- plus a few academic degrees- yet he treats her as an intellectual equal. Such a joy to match wits with him.

The taxi pulls up to the hotel and they each pay their half of the fare. Daniel climbs out of his side and comes around to hers, offering his hand to help her out. There's a spark as she places her small hand in his.

He holds onto her hand the entire way through the lobby. The long, capable fingers wrapped around hers. The warmth of his smile, every time their eyes meet.

They stop at the elevators and she breathes a silent sigh of relief when he finally lets go. His touch does strange things to her, making it hard to breathe. And the flock of butterflies from earlier are back in her stomach.

The car's empty at first but as others enter the elevator on the conference level floors they're gradually pushed to the rear, until Becky's squeezed right up against Daniel. "Sorry about that," she whispers.

"I don't mind," he replies just as softly, resting a hand lightly on her shoulder.

She feels the solidity and warmth of his tall body against hers and a shiver runs through her.

It makes her wonder if he's expecting something more intimate in return for his companionship. Which she's not exactly prepared to give anyone, as of yet.

Finally they exit the elevator, walk down the hallway to her door. Becky pulls out her key, smiles up at him. "Thanks for going out with me today. It was fun."

"You're welcome. I haven't done anything like that in a long time. Have to admit I enjoyed myself."

"Me, too."

"I'm glad." He says it softly, his eyes intently searching her face. She swallows and drops her gaze first.

Daniel continues to study her, a bittersweet smile on his lips. Then he reaches out, tilting her chin up and leaning down to cover her mouth with his.

The kiss is tender, gentle, sweet. Soft pressure, demanding nothing more.

He pulls away, his hand carefully cupping one side of her face, then brushes her other cheek with his lips. "Good night, Becky. Sweet dreams."

"You too," she barely has time to whisper before he's gone.

Her mind reeling, she unlocks the door and closes it behind her, still feeling the faint tingle of Daniel's hand on her face, the touch of his lips against hers.

Sensations that linger in her memory even after sleep comes, living on in her dreams.

* * *

Daniel scrambles to retrieve clothes and toiletries scattered around the hotel room (how on earth did one of his shirts wind up in the bathtub, anyway?) and stuff them in his trusty battered suitcase and carry-on. Scoops books and papers into his briefcase.

Packing time, twenty minutes. Not bad for last minute, even if pretty untidy.

No matter. Everything will get sorted once he's back home. Eventually.

His hand closes on a small white square box.

He enjoyed his time with Becky yesterday, so much it inspired him to buy her something as a token of their new friendship. So to speak.

He doesn't believe in love at first sight, but there's no denying the connection he feels with the young woman he met only a few days ago in the elevator. Attraction, even; for one moment last night he seriously considered giving in to it.

But the moment soon passed.

He's glad. Now he can see her as a friend instead of a potential lover, which makes more sense given his lousy luck with relationships.

Daniel's almost out the door before realizing he'd left the room key on the dresser. He shakes his head ruefully as he retrieves it.

_Keep your feet on the ground, Danny. _

Pretty sensible advice, considering his life so far. He'll have to remember it in the future.

* * *

Becky frowns up at the concourse departure board, anxiously shifting the strap of her carry-on from one shoulder to another.

The conference went well, all things considered. But now she's ready to go home. Back to her own bed, to Uncle Mac, to dear sunny, smoggy Los Angeles.

The air seems permanently laden with sound, bouncing off the wide glass windows. The rumble and whine of mighty jets. The constant chatter, the ebb and flow of passengers and personnel up and down the concourse. All the hustle and bustle of modern life encapsulated in an airport.

There's a tap on her shoulder, making her jump.

"Hi. Waiting for your flight?"

Daniel smiles down at her. Tweed jacket and jeans, slightly wrinkled blue button-down shirt, battered leather carry-on. The picture of academic casual.

"Yeah. You, too?"

He nods. "Join me for coffee?"

"Sure."

With hot beverages in hand they find a secluded corner.

"I'm glad I caught you before you left," Daniel says. "I'd like to keep in touch, and only today I realized-"

"-we have no idea how to contact each other?" Becky chuckles. "Weird, isn't it? I mean, I feel I've known you all my life-"

"-and we only met a couple days ago. I know what you mean."

Finishing each other's sentences, she thinks with a smile as they exchange phone numbers and email addresses. Nice to meet someone on the same wavelength.

"There's another reason I'm glad to see you here. I, well..." He flushes and reaches inside his jacket, pulling out a small, white flat box. "Think of it as a friendship gift."

She opens it to find a pendant on a chain, a gold hummingbird rendered in Northwest Native American design amid silver swirls. Gorgeous.

"Oh, Daniel. It's beautiful. Thank you."

"My pleasure. Among the coastal tribes the hummingbird's a gentle creature, known for its fortitude and ability to overcome great obstacles, and representing peace, healing and joy. Seemed perfect for you."

"Have to admit I also got you something. Kind of a thank-you present, for making my first conference memorable. Though in a good way." She hands him a package wrapped in tissue paper.

A notebook with blank pages of homemade paper, a native design in the center burnt into the dark green leather of the front cover.

Daniel's eyes light up, astonishment plain on his face. "How...how did you know I keep a journal?"

Now it's her turn to flush. "You mentioned it the other day, in passing. I pay attention to things like that. Thought you could use it for fieldwork or whenever."

He takes her hand, squeezes it. "I'll make good use of it," he promises. "Thank you."

"My pleasure."

Silence falls between them, but a comfortable sort of silence, where nothing really needs to be said between friends yet everything's easily understood nonetheless.

Just as well they didn't sleep together, she thinks. What they have now feels more right, kindred spirits without the undue pressure of romance.

Finally boarding calls are issued. First for his flight, then hers.

Daniel hefts the strap of his carry-on onto his shoulder. "I'd better go."

"I hope it's _au revoir_ and not goodbye."

"Until we meet again. I hope so, too." He smiles wistfully, gently caresses her cheek. "Take care, Becky. Have a safe flight."

"You too, Daniel."

He heads off down the concourse to his gate, though not before turning and giving her a jaunty wave before blending into the crowd.

She waves back, blinking through the tears in her eyes.

* * *

It isn't until the plane's at cruising altitude that Becky reopens the little white box. She gazes at the necklace for a while before fastening it around her neck.

Fingering the pendant she smiles, feeling a warm glow of satisfaction. Such a thoughtful man. She's glad they ran into each other on the elevator. Good friends are hard to come by, and she has a feeling this friendship will last a long time.

She leans her chair back, closes her eyes.

And dreams of a handsome, blue-eyed archaeologist.

* * *

Daniel stares out the narrow oval window, marveling at the view of the Rocky Mountains spread out below him. He wants to jot down a few observations in his journal; with dismay he realizes he'd finished the latest volume the night before.

Then he remembers Becky's gift. How thoughtful of her.

He pulls the new journal from his carry-on. Smooths his hand over the soft, tanned leather, long fingers tracing the embossed design on the front cover.

Raven. A trickster figure whose antics ultimately help humanity, with a quick wit and sense of humor. Symbolizing curiosity, creativity, prestige and knowledge.

One of his most favorite mythological creatures. How did she know?

Kindred spirits, indeed.

Nice to know he's not alone.

With a fond smile he extracts a pen from his carry-on, flips down the tray table. Opens the pristine journal, ready to be filled with hopes and dreams.

And begins to write.


	2. Loss

_Obligatory references to S04 E02 of MacGyver, "Blood Brothers"._

* * *

Night outside, the sky deepening to black save for a faint violet line, last residual of dusk on the West Coast. The occasional sprawl of electric lights below mirroring the constellations above.

Becky shifts in the narrow seat, burrowing even more into the airline-issue blanket. Tries hard to imagine the endless drone of the engines as the roar of the ocean, inducement to sleep.

It's not working.

She hates flying. Hates being cold. Hates the turbulence and narrow seats and the random noises of other passengers.

Most of all she hates the reason why they're taking such a late flight in the first place.

She lifts her head, scans the darkened cabin before settling on the lanky figure in the seat next to her. MacGyver slouches, eyes closed, arms crossed over his chest, legs sprawled out into the aisle.

"Unc? You asleep?" she ventures.

Velvet brown eyes open, blink slowly at her. "I was until now," comes the drowsy reply. "In the middle of a real nice dream, too."

She looks down, plucking at the navy blue fleece. "Sorry."

"Kidding." Gentle touch on her arm. "I wasn't sleeping, Beck. Just thinking, is all."

"What about?"

He gives a half shrug. "Memories, you could say. The past."

"Anything in particular?"

He shifts in his seat. "Try to get some sleep, okay? Still got a while before we land."

"Sure, Unc." So he's not in the mood for talking.

After Aunt Sara's frantic phone call yesterday, she can make a fairly educated guess as to why.

* * *

They land in Colorado Springs, collect their luggage. The ride to the house is silent except for Mac giving terse directions to the driver. Which is fine with Becky, as she's in no mood for idle conversation herself.

Completely wiped out, and the day's not over yet.

The taxi drops them off in front of the O'Neill residence. A lamp shines through the living room window, and the porch light is on. A telescope perches on a widow's walk, outlined in silver moonlight.

Sara O'Neill opens the door, her eyes red-rimmed, shoulders slumped. She gives them a faint smile, gestures them inside. "Mac, Becky. Thanks for coming."

"No problem," Mac says, setting his luggage down to envelop his sister-in-law in a hug. "How're you doing?"

She shrugs, her eyes downcast. Blinks away tears. "Been better. You guys want tea or something before turning in?"

"Sure." They follow her into the kitchen, sitting at the table by a bay window facing the backyard deck.

Her aunt's one of the most amazing women Becky has ever known (aside from her own mother and Nikki Carpenter, that is). Beautiful, bright and quick-witted, the perfect compliment to the likes of Uncle Jack. Keeping home and family together even as her husband risked his life for his country multiple times over, strong and dependable. Becky really admires her for that.

But now- Sara's different. A mere shadow of her formerly vivacious self. Every move slow and deliberate as she collects mugs from a cupboard, teabags from a box.

As if grief's drained all her energy away, leaving an empty shell.

A change in her outward appearance as well. Barefoot, worn flannel shirt and sweatpants. Blonde hair droops in a lank ponytail. Skin pale without makeup. So unlike the care she usually takes.

She catches them noticing and flushes. "Sorry. Lately I feel it's not worth it to get dressed, some days. I could barely rouse myself today, even though I knew you were coming-"

On impulse Becky rises to hug her. "It's okay," she says, throat tightening. "I'm so sorry about Charlie. I wish I could do something to help."

It takes a moment for her aunt to respond, but the embrace is unexpectedly fierce in return. "I know, sweetheart. Thank you."

"Same goes for me," Mac adds. "Anything you guys need. Just say the word."

A wan smile. "Thanks. It's enough you're both here, right now."

The tea's ready and for a while all the three of them can do is sip and stare out into the night, each lost in thought.

Finally Mac breaks the silence. "How did it happen?"

Sara's voice trembles with suppressed grief- and a touch of rage. "Jack keeps a gun here, in the house. Usually it's locked up tight, but for some reason he forgot to store it after cleaning earlier in the day. And- you know how Charlie's such a curious kid, especially when it comes to Jack's stuff. Always poking around in his office, no matter how many times I tell him not to-" She swallows, tears trickling down her cheeks.

Mac reaches for her hand, gives it a comforting squeeze. Becky hands her a tissue from the box on the table. She nods in gratitude as they wait until she can regain her composure.

"Jack and I were out on the deck getting the grill ready for dinner when we heard the crack of the gun. At first he thought it a neighbor's car backfiring. But I had a gut feeling something had happened to Charlie.

"We found him in the office. Unconscious, bleeding onto the rug. The gun on the ground, still smoking. His mouth open in a little 'o', as if in surprise. So still. So quiet.

"Jack was too impatient to wait for the ambulance, just rolled him up in a blanket. I held him in my arms the whole way. The doctors did all they could, but it wasn't enough..." her voice trails off, into a long silence.

Mac swipes at his face. Becky clears her throat, takes a sip of lukewarm tea. Grimacing at the aftertaste, as bitter as tears for her poor, lost cousin.

Parents should never have to bury their own children.

Mac sighs, rubs the back of his neck. "So where's my brother now?"

Flash of sudden anger in Sara's eyes. "Not here," she snaps. "Maybe off hiking in the woods, maybe the cabin in Minnesota, who the hell knows? Soon as we got back he packed his overnight bag and took off without even one word. Left me all alone, to make the phone calls and funeral arrangements and everything. I'm not even sure he'll be back for the funeral tomorrow."

Mac frowns. "No way. He wouldn't do that."

She snorts. "Oh, wouldn't he? Remember after he came back from Iraq last year? Closed up so tight, refused to see a therapist. Even now I'm sure he's hiding things from me. His own wife, for god's sake!" Becky winces at the rising tone.

"C'mon Sara, you know he does a lot of classified work." Mac's voice is calm, reasonable. "No way he can talk about it with anyone who doesn't have security clearance. I don't even know what he did over there. Neither of us can hold that against him. Besides, Jack's crazy about you, always has been. You know that."

A scowl crosses over her face, disappears so fast Becky's not sure she's even seen it. "You're right," she admits, slumping in defeat. "I still love him. Very much. But I can't stop worrying, either. I'm afraid he'll shut me out completely before too long."

"Nope, not gonna happen. I know my brother. I'll have a talk with him tomorrow, get his head straight. He'll come around, bet on it." Ever the optimist, her Uncle Mac.

Sara remains unconvinced. "We'll see. I'm not sure you know your brother as well as you think you do anymore. Jack hasn't been the same since Iraq. Still has trouble sleeping, though he won't admit it."

Becky can't help but grimace. She understands nightmares, having dealt with Mac's for years. The life of a troubleshooter and Phoenix Foundation agent is not an easy one.

Mac looks at her in concern. "You okay?"

"Feel a little woozy. Think I need to go to bed."

Sara's instantly contrite. "I'm sorry. You've both had a long day, I didn't mean to keep you up this late. Becky, why don't I get you settled in the guest room? Mac, you have no problems sleeping on the couch, right?"

He nods agreement as he stands and stretches. "No problem. I'll keep an eye out for Jack. Your couch is just as comfy as the one back home, if I recall correctly."

"Dearest uncle, one of these days you and I will have to have a long talk about your unhealthy obsession with sofas," Becky quips in a mock-solemn voice.

He grins, kisses her forehead. "Only if I want to be cured. Night, Beck."

"Night, Unc."

Sara smiles wistfully at their light banter. No doubt wondering if things would've been different, with a first-born daughter instead of a son.

Or a niece, staying with them after losing her own family.

"Can I ask you something?" Becky asks as they head up the stairs.

"Sure."

"When I chose not to stay with you and Uncle Jack, after the car crash- you were okay with that, right? Didn't bother you any?"

Sara looks puzzled. "Of course not. You're entitled to make your own choices, Becky. It was the right one at the time, for both you and Mac. Why do you ask?"

"No reason. Just curious, that's all. See you in the morning." A hug for her favorite aunt who needs all the love she can get, right now.

"Good night, Becky. Sleep well."

* * *

MacGyver's finding it hard to fall asleep.

Charlie's a pretty good kid. Brave, curious, energetic, loving, and kind. Much like his dad, in many ways.

Now his nephew's in the basement of a funeral parlor. A small, silent body under a white sheet, being prepared for burial in the afternoon.

What his brother and sister-in-law are going through is simply awful to contemplate. Yet ever since the phone call he keeps flashing on another set of memories entirely.

Harry taking Jack on a camping trip, Mom busy with the coffee shop. Perfect opportunity to pick the lock on the desk drawer where their grandfather kept his old service revolver. Showing off his shooting skills with Chuck, Neil and the rest of the gang, firing at tin cans and bottles. Horsing around without a care in the world.

The abrupt crack of the gun going off. Jesse's shriek of pain. A splash of blood, vivid red against his jacket.

The other boys flee, leaving Mac alone to save his injured friend as best he could.

And failing.

Jesse's death ruled an accident, chalked up to youthful high spirits and carelessness. No open blame for Mac by any adult, not even Jesse's grieving parents.

Yet he knew better. His friend's blood was on _his_ hands, since he provided the means. Harry's gun, created for one sole purpose: taking life.

Allison understood Mac's passionate hatred for such weapons and lifelong support for gun control after that, in psychologist mode deeming it a classic case of transference, shifting negative emotions away from a subject onto an object.

Jack just thought he was crazy.

Still does, really.

* * *

It's past midnight when Mac hears the truck pull into the driveway outside, the creak and thud of metal.

A minute later the front door opens and his twin brother steps inside.

Jack O'Neill drops his leather travel bag beside the door with a muffled thump. Broad shoulders slump with weariness. The beginnings of a ragged beard on his face, incongruous with the neat brown military haircut.

He wearily rubs his eyes, blinking a few times in the light from the lamp on the hall table. Utters a long, heavy sigh, the sound bordering on total exhaustion.

Finally scans the room, stopping on Mac. "Hey," he grunts.

"Hey."

"You need a haircut. Starting to look like a hippie."

"Nice to see you too."

"Just got here?"

Mac nods. "Couple hours ago."

"Becky with you?"

"Upstairs. Guest room." Easy to keep things terse when both of them are tired.

"Better get some shut-eye yourself."

"Will do."

Jack gives a short nod, hefts the bag and trudges upstairs.

Mac frowns, thinking of the careworn lines on his face, the pallor, the subdued demeanor. Nothing like his cheerful, snarky brother. Not at all.

It's worrisome.

* * *

Ordinarily Becky loves the rain, finding it comforting. Not today.

She huddles next to Mac under a black umbrella, shivering in the chill wind of late September. A lingering drizzle in the air, autumn just around the corner.

Somber weather for a somber mood.

Rather more people than she was expecting huddled around the gravesite. Herself and Mac, Sara and Jack. Friends and neighbors, Jack's co-workers from the air base, attired like him in full dress blues. Charlie's teacher and several of his classmates.

Sara's own father as well, the only one in the family weeping openly for his grandson.

His daughter clenches her jaw, trying hard not to break down. Mac's long since perfected an air of Midwestern stoicism and detachment in front of others, albeit a bit of tension lurks about the eyes and corners of his mouth. Jack's got his military training to fall back on, along with his natural emotional reticence.

Becky finds she can't cry either, though her stomach clenches a bit.

"Ashes to ashes, dust to dust..."

The small white casket's carefully lowered into the ground and covered with dirt as the minister drones on. Words of hollow comfort, more for the living than the dead. Unrealistic, meaningless platitudes.

Reminds her of another funeral, seven years ago. Three bodies in three caskets. The same empty phrases.

The same inexplicable, undeniable sense of loss.

* * *

The reception's held at the house. Fewer people attending than during the service, but far too crowded for Becky's taste even so. She's in desperate need of peace and quiet.

She stands on tiptoe to whisper in Mac's ear. "I need some air." He nods in understanding.

Upstairs is blessedly silent.

On her way to the guest room she notices one of the doors slightly ajar. Perhaps one of the attendees from the wake had gone looking for the bathroom, decided to take a peek out of simple curiosity.

She frowns. Time to rout the interloper, send him or her packing. Though politely, considering the occasion.

She steps through the doorway, into her cousin's bedroom. An eight-year-old boy's domain through and through, a mix of sports and astronomy. Model airplanes, sports trophies and action figures lined up neatly on the dresser and bookcases. Glow-in-the-dark stars and planets on the ceiling. Drawings in bright crayon colors taped to the walls.

Jack sits on the edge of the twin-size bed, blue uniform coat draped on the comforter, tie loosened. Same ruggedly handsome features and velvet brown eyes as his brother, yet vastly different in temperament and outlook.

He stares into space, clutching a kid-sized baseball glove in large, calloused hands. So lost and forlorn.

Intruding on his privacy seems so wrong at this moment. Probably better to wait for a more appropriate time.

Becky takes a step backwards, back colliding with the edge of the open door. She hisses softly at the pain.

A sharp glance in her direction. She swallows, anticipating a scathing rebuke.

Instead Jack holds out his hand. "C'mere."

She hesitates.

He sighs. "I won't bite, Beck. Promise."

The mattress sags slightly under their combined weight. Becky closes her eyes as he pulls her against him, feeling the warmth of his body through the crisp white shirt, the gentle press of lips on the top of her head. She breathes in the bracing scent of aftershave tickling her nose, hears the steady, reassuring thump of his pulse.

They draw comfort from one another, nothing more needing to be said.

* * *

Jack disappears immediately after the last of the mourners leave, once again without a word to anyone.

Mac frowns in disapproval. While his brother's always been closed-mouthed (though less reserved in comparison to himself, if he's being honest) the act's starting to annoy him.

"Good lord, I'm beat." Sara stretches out on the couch, uttering a faint sigh.

Becky brings her aspirin and a glass of water. "I'm gonna pop one of the neighbors' casseroles in the oven if anyone wants to eat. Is that okay?"

"Sounds good. Thanks for all your help today, sweetheart."

Becky flushes, ducks her head. "My pleasure."

Mac beams at her, affectionately ruffles her hair. "I'm gonna go look for Jack," he murmurs in her ear. She nods, and heads back to the kitchen.

After a cursory search outside and on the first floor, he heads upstairs. Notices the trapdoor to the attic open, allowing access to the roof.

He swallows as he reaches the top of the ladder. How his brother's learned to thrive in high places while he breaks out in a cold sweat is a mystery for the ages.

Jack slouches in the gathering darkness on the widow's walk, nursing a beer. Glares at Mac but otherwise gives no acknowledgment of his presence.

He's been far too silent all day, grief and anger simmering under his stoic expression. Surely something's gotta give, and soon.

"Isn't it a bit overcast to be stargazing?" Mac quips.

No answer.

"C'mon, you gonna stay up here all night or what? Becky's heating up tuna hot dish. You wouldn't want to disappoint our niece by not showing up for dinner, now would you?"

"Leave me alone," Jack growls. "I'm fine."

"Doesn't look like it to me." Mac risks one glance over the edge, a view he instantly regrets. "God," he mutters, wincing. "Shouldn't you be wearing a parachute or something? Or at the very least set up some nets."

Jack smirks at his discomfort. "Still can't handle heights, huh?" The bottle empty, he reaches for another. "Want one?"

Mac grimaces. "You know I don't touch the stuff anymore. Haven't you had enough yet?"

"Nope."

"There's no absolution at the bottom. I should know."

Jack scowls. "Spare me unpleasant childhood memories, why don't ya? Bad enough I got back from camping with Harry to find you sneaking liquor behind Mom's back, for crying out loud."

"That's exactly what I mean. After Jesse got shot I was an absolute wreck. For a long time the only way I could stop feeling guilty long enough to sleep was to get drunk. Then one day I woke up and realized I didn't like who I was under the influence. Better to stay sober and live with the guilt than feel that out of control ever again."

"Oh come off it, Mac. It was an accident, alright? You were kids, didn't know any better. Jesse dying wasn't your fault."

"But it was, darn it!" Mac snaps. "_I_ was the one who stole Harry's revolver to show it off to Chuck and the others. _I_ was the one who convinced them horsing around with it would be cool. Jesse's death is on me, Jack. Nothing can change that."

"That's why you hate guns so much, huh?"

"Absolutely," Mac says, eyes blazing. "They're made for only two purposes- harm lives or take them. Things happen with a gun. People die. It's not right."

"You've been trying to convince others of that since high school. How's that been working out for you? Why not try to walk on water, since you're attempting miracles?"

A trace of Jack's usual sarcasm in his voice, which Mac secretly takes as a good sign.

"Oh knock it off, already. You're one to talk. Isn't it bad enough you can kill a man ten different ways with your bare hands as it is? Why the heck would you even want to keep a gun at home anyway? You know the damage they do."

His brother scowls. "Stop it. I know what else you're gonna say, so stop it right there. How dare you come here with that holier-than-thou pacifist crap, telling _me_ how dangerous guns are?"

Mac slumps in his seat. "Jack, I-"

"Dammit, I know it's my fault, okay? I never taught Charlie about my gun. He didn't know how it worked, that he had to be careful with it. My fault I got too distracted that day after cleaning it. I forgot to lock it up and put the box away and now I'm paying for my boneheaded carelessness. Sara's right to blame me." Tears sparkle in his brother's eyes, something Mac's rarely seen even when they were kids.

"She doesn't blame you. Hasn't said anything to me, at least."

"I know she does. Hell, _I _blame myself. What good am I to anyone, when I can't even keep my head on straight? Can't trust myself anymore. Might as well resign my commission while I'm at it."

"No way. The Air Force is your life, always has been. Besides, what would you do if you resigned?"

"Dunno. Teach astronomy, maybe. Instruct cadets at the Academy. Go work for Boeing or some other aerospace company. Any other job where I don't have to even look at a gun if I don't want to."

Mac's secretly elated, yet he knows his brother all too well. They both thrive on danger and excitement. Dealing with bureaucracy and endless paperwork behind a desk- it's not for them.

Not like it was with their mother, Ellen. He remembers her toiling endless hours at the coffee shop, struggling to make ends meet while raising three kids without a husband's support. How tired she was all the time, no chance to have anything remotely resembling fun. Even so she firmly believed in a strong work ethic, right up to the day she was diagnosed with stage-four cancer.

"You know how you get when you're bored. You'd hate retirement. You'd be climbing the walls within a week, and so would Sara."

"Yeah, about that." Jack takes a swig of beer. "Don't think we'll be staying together much longer."

"That's nuts. I'm the one who's relationship-adverse in the family, just ask Becky. You and Sara have a great thing going here. Why ruin it now?"

"We were fighting even before the accident. Little things, here and there, but all of it circling around bigger issues. Not much else we have in common, really."

"Nonsense. She still loves you. And you love her, I know you do. You can make it work, try for another kid-"

Jack cuts him off with an angry wave of his hand. "We can't. She had trouble during the pregnancy, and after. Charlie was our only chance."

Mac's eyes widen, his heart wrenching in sympathy. "Oh, god. I...I had no idea. I'm so sorry."

Jack shrugs, looks down at his sneakers. "Yeah, well. As for making it work- too much effort for both of us, you know? Better we should divorce now before it gets really ugly."

"Aw c'mon, listen to yourself. You can't mean that."

"I do. I'll only hurt her again, I know I will. She deserves better."

There's a stubborn set to his chin; Mac knows from experience very little can change his brother's mind once he's set on a course of action. A common family trait.

He sighs. "I get it, believe me. But hear me out before you do anything drastic. You're still in mourning, and resigning your commission, getting a divorce- those are pretty big decisions to make. Give it some time, maybe you'll feel differently after a while."

Jack nods. "Fair enough, I guess. Hope you're right."

"So do I." They sit quietly in the evening dusk, staring out into space.

"Sky's clearing up finally. Lots of stars gonna be visible tonight," Jack says casually after a while. "Might need to bring Becky up here after dinner and check them out."

"Just be sure not to keep her up too late, okay? Got a plane to catch in the morning."

Jack gives him a wry smile. "That's the only time you've had to act parental, isn't it? Not my fault she likes to read past her bedtime."

"No," Mac replies, very dry. "That was our sister's influence."

"Yeah." Jack raises his beer. "To absent family."

John O'Neill, their biological father. James MacGyver, their stepfather. Grandma Celia.

Ellen, their strong-willed mother.

Their sister Allison, brother-in-law Michael, and nephew Chris. Grandpa Harry.

And now Charlie.

So many lost, over the years. Until all that's left is the four of them.

Or three, if his gut feeling about his brother and sister-in-law turns out to be right after all.

"_Skål. _" Mac picks up one of the empty bottles, clinks it against Jack's. "Dinner should be ready by now. C'mon down and eat with us while it's hot, because trust me, you really don't want to face Becky's wrath if everything's cold."

Jack actually chuckles. "Yeah, sure, ya betcha."

* * *

"Thanks so much for coming," Sara says, cuddling Becky close. "You don't know how much I appreciate everything you've done to help. I just wish you could've had more time to stay."

"So do I," she admits softly.

"Allison's little girl, all grown up. She'd be so proud of you."

She swallows the lump forming in her throat. "I know. Love you, Aunt Sara. Take care."

"You too, sweetheart."

Mac and Jack look at each other for a long moment, taking in as much as they can. To remember until the next time.

Finally they share a brotherly hug, slapping each other on the back.

"Good to see you, Jack. Try to stay out of trouble, huh?"

"Right back atcha. Keep our princess safe, okay?"

"You bet," Mac replies, voice choked with sudden emotion.

Jack turns to Becky, opening his arms wide. "Speaking of whom, where's that hug?"

She chuckles. "Right here."

He wraps her in his embrace, kissing the top of her head. "Thanks for coming, Beck. Take good care of my brother for me, willya?"

She holds him tight. "Of course I will. Love you."

He pulls away, gently caresses her cheek. "Love you too. Be brave."

"I'll do my best."

"You be brave too, huh?" Mac says in Sara's ear as they hug. "You're stronger than you know. Jack will come around, you'll see."

"I hope so, Mac," she quietly replies. "Though I don't share your optimism. I'll just have to take life as it comes, right?"

He can only agree, kissing her cheek.

Becky takes a last look back as the taxi pulls away. They're both waving. Standing side by side, though without touching. Not a good omen for the future.

Charlie's gone, but that won't ever erase memories of her cousin. Nor their love for each other as family.

She hopes Jack and Sara can still find a way forward. Or at least inflict as little damage as possible to each other if things fall apart.

Yet who knows? Perhaps they will find a measure of peace themselves, someday. Together or separately.

"Think they'll be all right?"

Mac sighs. "I don't know, Beck. I hope so."

"Me, too."

Time to go home, back to their lives in Los Angeles. To her studies and his missions for Phoenix.

To whatever the future may bring.


	3. Rock Bottom

Daniel wakes with a jolt, the dream still fresh in his mind. He sits up, yawns and stretches, then lazily rubs at his chest under the shirt, blinking in the bright sunlight pouring into the room.

He reaches for his glasses, stares at the contents of his latest research strewn across the kitchen table. Rubs his cheek where one edge of a book made a slight impression overnight.

Must've fallen asleep while working again, he realizes with a rueful smile. There's a perfectly good bed in the other room, with pillows and clean sheets and everything. So why does he keep forgetting to make use of it?

There's the sound of a door opening and Sarah Gardner stumbles into the living room wearing shorts and faded university t-shirt, still half-asleep.

(Because it's not technically _his_ bed, he reminds himself. It's hers. The whole apartment is, in fact.)

"Morning," he offers, tentatively.

She runs a hand through rumpled strawberry-blonde hair and frowns at him. "You didn't come to bed last night."

"Sorry. I got distracted."

She sighs. "Whatever. Get the coffee on, okay?"

"Sure," he replies as she heads to the bathroom.

Daniel pads towards the kitchen, smiling as a fragment tickles his memory.

_Eyes a shade lighter than his own smile up at him, glasses glinting in the light of two moons. A tinkling laugh echoes through his mind. Strands of auburn hair gently lift and sway on a warm evening breeze. Soft full lips part in anticipation as his arms tighten around her, awaiting his kiss..._

He frowns, belatedly realizing the young woman in the dream wasn't Sarah.

Neither was the one from the night before, now he thinks about it.

_Delicate and tawny-skinned, long curly black hair shining in the torchlight. Wide-set dark eyes shining as she points out pictures and hieroglyphics painted on a rough stone wall. A brilliant smile as she teaches him her language..._

He shakes his head to clear the thought away. He already has a girlfriend, for god's sake. Why dream about other women now?

A brief glance at the clock. If Sarah gets out of the bathroom soon there's more than enough time for a shower and shave. And an attempt at a decent breakfast.

But first, coffee.

* * *

Later that evening they stumble into the apartment together, juggling briefcases, Indian takeout and- in Daniel's case- a few books borrowed from the office.

So good to be home after classes and an interminable departmental meeting, with Dr. Jordan giving him the stink-eye the whole time. Probably because of his repeated requests to increase funding for the Saqqara site to extend the dig in the fall.

Sarah sets the takeout on a free corner of the kitchen table, frowns as he turns on both computer and modem. "I thought we were going to spend a quiet night together."

"Just wanted to check email," he absently replies. "Only take a couple minutes." She sighs, and fetches plates and forks from the kitchen, along with a bottle of wine and glasses.

He quickly loads his plate, clicks on the icon for the email program.

_Ding._ New mail.

From Becky, which is always a treat. Her letters tend to be long and chatty, ranging from fun and flippant to serious and scholarly. He enjoys responding in the same manner, taking as much pleasure in the exchange as he had their conversations.

Sarah reads over his shoulder, frowns. "You've been getting emails from her for a while now. Who is she?"

"Someone I met at the conference in Seattle a couple years ago," he mumbles around a mouthful of _tikka masala. _

"Is she pretty?"

He bites a piece of _naan _in half and chews. "Hmm?"

"I said, is she pretty?"

"Who?"

She flicks a disdainful hand at the screen. "This...this Becky person who writes to you. Is she pretty?"

Daniel tears his gaze away from the computer to blink up at her, pushing his glasses up the bridge of his nose. "Um, not that I remember."

"You smile an awful lot when you're reading her emails. I've never seen you smile at anything I've written." There's a jealous edge to her voice he's never heard before.

"We're pen pals, that's all. Becky's just a grad student I happened to meet, we hit it off. Nothing more than that. It's not like I slept with her or anything."

Her eyes narrow and her expression hardens. "I'll pretend you didn't say that," she says icily.

He winces. When will he ever learn he needs a filter for anything coming out of his mouth? "Sorry."

Sarah rises from the table, plate in hand. "Whatever. I'll finish eating in the bedroom, maybe read for a while before turning in."

He watches her leave, puzzled. She's been acting colder towards him lately, though for the life of him he can't figure out why. She's known from the start how devoted he is to his work, to the point of spending more time immersed in research than with her.

Still, he loves her, and he's reasonably sure she loves him.

In one of the banks downtown there's a safe-deposit box containing certain items inherited from his parents, including a velvet-lined box containing their wedding rings. Maybe it's time to ask her to marry him, once the quarter's over.

_Ding._ Another new email, this time from his mentor. _See me tomorrow. Earliest opportunity._

Daniel frowns. Dr. Jordan's usually not so terse. But then he's been pretty stressed lately, most likely due to the dismal quarterly budget reports.

Which means the extra funding for Saqqara's probably in the toilet.

Maybe that's not such a bad thing. There's a symposium coming up in October, in Denver. Pretty easy to hop a flight to Los Angeles from there for a couple days afterwards.

He leans over the keyboard, composing a reply to Becky.

* * *

"You damn fool!" Dr. Jordan yells, throwing papers at him.

Daniel can only stand there, paralyzed in shock as his life's work flutters onto the carpet around him.

"What the hell are you trying to do? I've personally bent over backwards to give you every damned chance around here. Do you have any idea of how much I sweat working up critiques for this half-assed crap you dream up instead of real solid work? Stop wasting my time!"

His mentor seems even more florid than usual today, the angry flush reaching all the way to the top of his head. Not a good look for a man of his age, tenure, or blood pressure.

Daniel blinks in surprise. "I don't understand, Louis. I've done everything else you've asked of me. Teaching courses, attending conferences, fieldwork-"

Jordan cuts him off with a wave of his hand. "And there's no question of your competency in those areas. You're an excellent researcher and hard worker. God knows your dedication to the field's second to none and your capacity for languages excels anyone else's in the department. Even your students have no complaints, though I daresay a full half of them are perhaps more enamored of your boyish good looks than your teaching style. You'll go far, if only you weren't so devoted to your rather unconventional theories."

"With due respect, you once taught all theories are equally valid, so long as there is sufficient evidence to back them up. I've put in the work, my theories are as valid as anyone else's. Why won't you allow me to publish as I see fit and let others make up their own minds?"

Jordan sighs and sits down, slowly. "Daniel, you know how fond I am of you. You've been one of the best and brightest students I've ever had. A true prodigy. But no matter how conscientious and meticulous your supporting research, or how well-thought-out your conclusions, no one in the academic community is going to take you and your theories of cross-pollination seriously. Not so long as you also keep insisting a good deal of Ancient Egypt's culture and language- including the pyramids- existed for reasons and purposes other than what's already been well-established. By, I might add, those with far more experience in the field than you."

"Those aren't just my theories. My own grandfather-"

"Nicholas Ballard was a brilliant scientist, to be sure, though you have to admit he was ultimately considered a crackpot and no one took his ideas seriously."

"...Like grandfather, like grandson. Is that what you're saying?"

"Of course not. I respect your desire to redeem his legacy, but surely not at the expense of your own career and reputation?"

Daniel sighs, pinches the bridge of his nose. He has a nasty feeling the other shoe's about to drop. "While I appreciate your concern for my professional well-being, is there some other reason you're giving me this warning?"

Jordan clears his throat, nervously shuffles papers, refuses to meet his eyes. "Certain...rumors have surfaced about you in the academic community."

"Rumors of what, exactly?"

"Mental instability. That you've become seriously unhinged, your...theories...nothing more than artifacts of paranoid delusion."

The words hit Daniel in the gut. Eccentricity's tolerated in academia- even expected to a degree- but there's a fine line between unorthodox behavior and requiring psychiatric treatment. Though god knows he's skirted the knife-edge of sanity in the past.

"What? No. Absolutely not. I'm not crazy."

"I'm sure you aren't, and anyone else who knows you certainly believes that. But son, you have to admit-"

"Who's the source of these rumors, anyway?"

"That's not what's important here-"

"David, for god's sake please tell me!"

"...Dirk Sanderson, of Syracuse University."

Oh, god. Of course. This is how he's getting revenge for his humiliation in Seattle two years ago.

He swore he'd get even someday. How could Daniel have forgotten?

"The point is he has the ear of some of the most prominent Egyptologists in our field, including those who determine what gets published through the auspices of the AIA. They're already predisposed to discredit you as it is, the fact of which frankly makes what I'm about to say even worse for you."

Daniel's stomach churns. "How much worse?"

Jordan takes a while answering him. "The provosts believe if you persist with your current line of research you're in danger of tarnishing our department's reputation, perhaps even that of the entire university. They're recommending you resign your position if you don't change your tune, and quick."

"Better to sacrifice me than the department's precious honor, huh?" The words come out far more bitter than he originally intended.

His mentor looks a little put out. "Unfortunate choice of words, but true, I'm afraid."

And there it is. The end of his career, of everything he's ever worked hard for. Everything he's believed in since learning of his grandfather's work. The reason he sought emancipation from foster care to forge his own path.

But there's no way in hell he's going down without a fight.

"Just give me one more chance," Daniel pleads, not bothering to suppress the desperation in his voice.

"Son, I've already given you so many-"

"Look, the Denver Archaeology Symposium's in a month. I know it's too late to submit anything through normal channels, but you've got connections with the committee, don't you?"

"I suppose I do. But honestly I don't see how that could help you here."

"Our discipline's supposed to illuminate misunderstood aspects of the past, isn't it? All I want is one chance to make people think instead of blindly accepting useless, outdated theories. To expand their horizons. Please, let me make my case."

Jordan sighs as he leans back, steepling his fingers. "All right. I can't guarantee anything, but I might be able to pull some strings through Dr. Ajami at Columbia to grant you a last-minute session. Fair warning- they won't be as receptive as you think."

"I understand that. I'm determined to try nonetheless."

His mentor smiles, thinly. "You've never been a quitter, Daniel. I can respect that." He pauses for a moment. "Tell you what. I'll write you a letter of recommendation, even extend your grant money by a month to help you get on your feet again. But that's all I can do from here on out. Believe me when I say I wish you well, no matter where you end up. Do have your letter of resignation on my desk by the end of the day, won't you?"

Daniel doesn't trust himself to make a civil reply. Instead he scowls, spins on his heel and storms out.

In his broom closet of an office he hastily composes the letter and applies his signature before turning it in to Candace, Jordan's sympathetic secretary. Packs all his personal belongings in his briefcase and a couple of cardboard boxes pilfered from the storage room, leaving them with the custodial staff to be picked up later.

Maybe not entirely the end of the world. Sure as hell feels like it, though.

So what should he do now? Take time to reflect and reassess his options, decide on a new career path?

No, he really doesn't want to think hard about his career- or what's left of it. Not tonight.

See if Sarah's willing to commiserate with him?

After a glance at the schedule in her office (no bigger than his) he discovers she's currently giving a lecture, so nix on that option.

Drown his sorrows, solo?

Without sparing a final glance for his former life, he heads for the nearest bar, where he downs a bottle of scotch and sourly contemplates the fickle confluence of academia and office politics.

* * *

It's nearly midnight when Daniel staggers into the apartment. Sarah's sitting on the couch, staring at the TV without really watching it. He offers her a clumsy wave. "Hey."

"There you are. I've been worrying about you all day." She frowns, wrinkling her nose. "You're drunk."

He stumbles, almost falls backwards into an overstuffed armchair. Closes his eyes, wishing the world could stop spinning long enough to let him off. "Been out," he hiccups, "doing research."

"Researching what, exactly?"

"How much alcohol I need to get myself embalmed from the inside out. Today's my burial day. Feels like it, anyway."

She grimaces. "Dr. Jordan was rather rough on you, wasn't he?"

"You heard?"

"Heard? Daniel, the whole department knows. By now it's surely all over the campus."

"My life's work," he sniffs, slumping further into the armchair. "Down the toilet. No way I'm gonna get published now. Damn that Sanderson."

She sighs. "I'm sorry, truly I am. I know how much it meant to you. But you can't hardly say you didn't see this coming, now can you? If you'd only channeled that same enthusiasm into more acceptable topics you'd still have a job. As I've suggested. Think of this as a sign to change your ways-"

"No," he says shortly. "Why should I? The cross-pollination of cultures, hieroglyphs with either secondary meanings or in a dialect unrelated to Ancient Egyptian or the rest of the Afro-Asiatic phylum. I'm on to something really big, Sarah. I can feel it in my bones."

"Are you sure what you're feeling isn't nausea instead?" she quips with a bitter edge to the words.

He groans. "Don't remind me. Please."

"Sorry." A few moments of blessed silence. "I can't do this anymore, Daniel."

"Do what?"

"All of this," waving her hand around at the piles of books, lopsided stacks of papers, scribbled notes. "You've changed since you decided to revive some of your grandfather's work. It's like you've become obsessed."

"Sarah," he says plaintively. "You know me. Have I really changed that much?"

A reluctant nod. "I know you're not the same man I fell in love with. I'm worried for you. I'm on your side, believe me."

He sits up, brows knitted. "I don't get it. Why are you acting this way? Don't you love me anymore?"

"Well, that's just it. Perhaps I don't." So matter-of-fact.

Whatever happened to the vibrant, passionate woman he fell in love with?

This isn't the knock-down fight he's feared for the end of their relationship. (Not that he'd expected it to end at all, but still.)

It's quieter, calmer. Even reasonable, all things considered. A whimper instead of a bang.

Which makes it that much worse.

He blinks at her in confusion, glasses slipping down his nose. "But we're perfect for each other. I thought we had something special."

"Daniel," she sighs. "Don't make this harder than it already is. I want what's best for you. Even if you can't see it yourself. Please, give up this nonsense before it's too late."

"Are you saying you've lost faith in me?"

"I have. I'm sorry." There's a stubborn set to her jaw, cold fire in her eyes. Along with a trace of sadness. No changing her mind, then.

With a sick feeling in the pit of his stomach (surely not from the alcohol) he realizes the bottom's just dropped out of his world.

"Well, in that case I might as well pack up and leave." He rises from the chair, a trifle unsteadily.

She turns off the TV and stands up. "I already took the liberty. It's better this way for both of us. Clean break."

As she passes by he reaches out to her- in entreaty or desperation, he's not sure. "Sarah-"

He's unable to tell if she's hiding tears or not as she turns away from him, heading for the bedroom. "I'm done talking. You can sleep on the couch overnight, but I expect you to be gone when I return home. Goodnight, Daniel. And goodbye."

The door shuts firmly behind her.

For a while all he can do is stare into space. Finally he heaves a heavy sigh, removes his shoes, suit jacket and tie before stretching out on the couch, taking off his glasses and pulling an afghan over his shivering body. Bites his lip, trying hard not to throw up.

Not easy to do, when his heart's so casually been torn to pieces.

* * *

The problem with mornings, Daniel thinks, is they come way too early for his liking. Especially when he's got a hell of a hangover.

He squints into the bright sunlight. On the coffee table beside him is a steaming cup and two aspirins. At least Sarah has that much regard for his well-being.

Not far away are his two battered suitcases, faithful companions since he was a boy. Remembers the thrill of hope he felt every time unpacking in a new foster home.

And the crushing disappointment while packing, after being told _"We're sorry Daniel, but this just isn't working out..."_

They're suspiciously bulging. She always was a woman of her word.

* * *

From there it's a slow slide to oblivion.

Grant money no longer available, the lease on his apartment runs out. A series of cheap, anonymous hotel rooms on the last of his meager savings and friends' couches to crash on become his temporary homes, between unsuccessful attempts to secure positions at other academic institutions.

Sanderson's revenge is complete, for now.

Hopefully October will change all that.

* * *

Finally the conference arrives, a dreary day in Denver. If he was at all superstitious he'd consider it a poor omen for a reversal of fortune. He's trying hard not to.

This is it. Daniel's day of renewal, his reacceptance into the academic community. He's as prepared as he's ever going to be, with notes, pictures, transparencies and translations. Every ounce of ammunition he can muster against a tidal wave of disbelief.

It's not enough.

The presentation goes just as Dr. Jordan had warned, with him being laughed out of the room. All because he wanted to defy convention, shake things up. Open people's eyes to new possibilities.

It's pouring by the time Daniel trudges from the hotel, faithful suitcases in hand, shoulders slumped with weariness. Utter dejection seeping into every pore of his body.

Theories eviscerated, academic career and reputation in tatters.

No girlfriend, no apartment, no friends or family to lean on.

Nothing to do, except maybe lose himself in a bottle of tequila from the Armenian at the corner market.

Rock bottom, as they say. Hurts like hell.

Two men in military uniforms holding umbrellas step up to him. "Are you Daniel Jackson?" one inquires.

"Yes..." he replies, warily.

"Please come with us." They turn smartly on their heels, leading him to a limo.

One of them opens the rear door. An elegant, white-haired woman beckons him inside.

"Dr. Jackson? My name is Catherine Langford. I'm here to offer you a job. There are some early hieroglyphics I'd like you to work on..."

When you hit rock bottom there's nowhere else to go but up.

Really, what else can he do but listen?

* * *

_AIA= Archaeological Institute of America._


	4. Escape

The cabin floor rolls under Becky's feet. She gasps, bracing herself against the doorway as the world comes crashing down around her once more.

On the porch a pencil attached to a empty tin can swings erratically to and fro, tracing jagged lines on a long narrow strip of paper on a spool. The can's suspended by wires from a narrow board nailed to another in an L-shape, the whole thing braced and mounted on a round cutting board.

Her uncle's homemade seismograph actually works. She's impressed.

(To be fair most of his contraptions do, but not always. A certain egg-cooking robot and a pair of yellow-stained sneakers come to mind.)

A couple minutes later the quake stops. She breathes easier, scooping up the seismograph and gingerly stepping off the porch, mindful of aftershocks.

The ensuing silence is shattered moments later by a pounding beat. Four sleek military helicopters escorting one with twin sets of rotating blades zoom overhead from Edwards AFB, heading westward.

"That'd be the President," MacGyver says by the jeep.

"Come to inspect what's left of the California coastline, I imagine. Everything packed up?"

"You bet." He comes up beside her. Follows her lingering gaze, squinting in the sunlight reflecting off the water.

There's a new bay on the coast. One that hadn't been there previously, formed out of massive tectonic and seismic forces at work.

The Los Angeles Basin's now completely covered by the blue waters of the Pacific. Waves slap against steel, concrete and glass, the remnants of Downtown's tallest buildings breaking through the surface. Every so often bodies or other bits of flotsam and jetsam come bubbling up to the surface, to be picked up by a flotilla of rescue and salvage ships. All that remains of a bustling, sprawling metropolis.

"Guess that's it then," he says softly. "End of an era."

She swallows. "Yeah." A tear trickles down her cheek for the poor people who couldn't make it out in time. So many lives lost in such a devastating disaster.

He gently squeezes her shoulder. "C'mon. Let's get outta here."

With one final wistful glance to the west Becky climbs in the jeep. Marveling on how much the world can change in a single day.

* * *

-24 hours earlier-

"Department of Archaeology and Anthropology, Candace speaking. How can I help you?"

"Yes, hello. I'm trying to get in touch with Dr. Daniel Jackson. Is he there, by any chance? I'm a friend of his."

A moment of hesitation. "I'm sorry, but Dr. Jackson hasn't been with us for several years now."

"Do you know of any other way I can contact him? Any forwarding address or phone number?"

"No, ma'am. Like I said, we haven't seen him since he resigned his position, and that was four years ago. Sorry."

"I see. Well, thanks for your help anyway."

"No problem, ma'am."

Becky sighs as she hangs up the phone. Another dead end.

Four years since she's heard anything from Daniel. The last time was when he'd written about coming out to visit her in L.A. after attending a symposium in Denver. He never showed up, and she hasn't heard from him since.

Every subsequent email bounced back as undeliverable. Phone number disconnected. Vague rumors of his humiliation at that same symposium in Denver persist throughout the academic community, yet no one has a clue what happened to him afterwards. (Or cares to, which she finds vaguely irksome.)

It's like he's disappeared completely off the face of the earth.

Which is a real shame. She could really use someone to talk to, after her latest failed attempt at a boyfriend. Dylan's a sweet guy, but she's long ago decided against being intimate with anyone if there's no sense of connection and he's not content with merely a platonic relationship.

To be honest, she's never felt anything like the instant rapport she and Daniel had with anyone else. Not for lack of trying, anyway.

Becky absently fingers the hummingbird pendant resting just below her throat. Every time she wears it she wonders about him. Where he is, what he's doing, if he's at all happy. If she'll ever see him again.

She hopes so.

* * *

Working for the Phoenix Foundation has its advantages.

After achieving her second doctorate a couple years back Becky's earned a position in the Linguistics Department that merits a cozy office all her own with an actual window, and a salary that's fairly decent by any stretch. Phoenix treats its employees well as recompense for luring the best of the best away from jobs in other, sometimes more lucrative, areas.

She's still living with her uncle and doesn't mind, but one of these days she fully intends to purchase her own place, preferably with a view of the ocean. Especially once Uncle Mac makes his mind up about asking Nikki to move in with him.

It's richly rewarding work but Becky's always been a dreamer, and every now and then she can't help wondering if there's another destiny in store for her. Somewhere far away from here.

For now, though, she's content enough with her life.

If only the darn tremors would stop.

* * *

He ambles through the halls of the Foundation, hands stuffed casually in pockets, nodding and sharing greetings along the way. People murmur to each other in his wake, as if pointing out a living legend, though he just laughs it off.

Angus MacGyver, the man who can make anything from practically nothing. Troubleshooter and expert agent.

More consultant than agent though, these days. Still fit and trim despite being in his late 40's, even with gray hairs that keep popping up despite his best efforts to hold them at bay (with judicious applications of hair dye), knees that creak and ache more often than he'd like and laugh lines gathering at the corners of his eyes and mouth.

He passes into the offices of the Linguistics Department, stopping at a familiar door with _Dr. Rebecca Grahme_ engraved on the nameplate.

Every time he sees that he feels a warm satisfied glow, only partially made up of an uncle's pride in his beloved niece. She's come a long way in fourteen years, from the timid, newly-made orphan to the brilliant social scientist, alight in her own sphere.

It's like watching anyone he's mentored over the years- at the Challengers Club or Big Brother program- coming into their own.

Only better, 'cause it's his princess.

He knocks on the door, hears her soft acknowledgement. Opens it just enough to see her in profile, typing on her laptop and absently biting her lower lip in concentration. The midday light through the window makes her hair- cut in a flattering A-line bob- glow.

"Hey Beck," he says, softly.

A grin lights up her face as she turns and sees him, pushing her glasses up her nose. "Hey, Unc. Just can't stay away from this place, can you?"

He gives a nonchalant shrug. "Maybe not much fieldwork these days but that doesn't mean I can't keep my hand in every now and then. Pete left me some tickets for the Twins-Dodgers game this weekend in his office before he left for D.C., thought I'd pick them up and treat my favorite linguist to lunch. Interested?"

"Sure, if you're buying." She checks the time, closes her laptop. "Though actually, I'm due to attend a lecture right now. Join me?"

"What's it about?"

"Plate tectonics. Earthquakes, specifically. The geology department's giving a lecture to anyone who's interested, right here in the building."

"Just to remind us of the seismic powder keg we're already sitting on," Mac notes, very dry. "Sure, why not?"

In the spirit of freely sharing information the Foundation offers a series of lunch hour lectures open to all employees, in a small theatre set up expressly for this purpose. Mac and Becky slip in through the rear door, finding seats at one end of the back row.

The room's remarkably full considering the day's topic, what with all the tremors occurring on a regular basis. Earthquakes are obviously on everyone's mind lately.

On stage Dr. Lewis Meriwether (gangly, thick spectacles and towheaded) and Dr. Clark Williams (robust, deep brown skin and tightly-curled graying hair) are busy studying the laptop in front of them and tapping away at the keyboard.

The presentation- projected on the screen behind and slightly above them- appears to be permanently frozen on the title slide.

Mac frowns. "Maybe I should go and help them out."

"Why?" Becky asks.

"I've been putting up with the IT equipment's quirks for years. Got one or two tricks that might help."

"Unc, they're the two leading scientists in their department. I know you still want to feel useful, but surely they can find their way around a presentation on their own."

The display suddenly unfreezes and flicks forward a couple of slides. Meriwether and Williams heave a joint sigh of relief.

On the main screen appears a detailed map and cross-section of the San Andreas Fault in all its 800-mile glory. From Mendocino to the Salton Sea, the uncomfortable and always-shifting junction of the Pacific and North American Plates.

The lecture begins with basic facts about plate tectonics in general, and the fault in particular. Meriwether and Williams take turns speaking, soft tenor and booming baritone alternating. It takes a little while, but Mac can feel the atmosphere in the room change as people begin to pay attention. He even finds himself getting caught up in the topic, though it isn't anything he hasn't heard before. Out of the corner of his eye he notices Becky's equally enraptured.

"Experts such as ourselves have been predicting what's popularly known as the Big Quake- which could devastate a significant portion of the state's population- for years," Williams concludes. "We're here to tell you it will happen. There's proof of that. The only questions are when and of what magnitude. We advise everyone to be mindful, and take appropriate precautions."

The floor shifts slightly under everyone's feet, then subsides. The crowd disperses quickly, unsettled.

Even so Mac and Becky linger for a while, waiting until almost everyone has gone. They can hear the agitated discussion between the geologists on the stage even from where they're sitting, as the acoustics in the theatre are excellent.

"I'm telling you, we should've told them of our predictions! The data we analyzed this morning-" Meriwether hisses.

"It wouldn't have done much good," Williams cuts in. "We tried to contact the Governor's office this morning with our warning, remember? Only to be told he's in meetings all day. Ditto the Mayor. The _L.A. Times_ and other media outlets wouldn't even send reporters. Besides, people have heard far too many lunatic rants about the Big Quake these days to take our warning seriously."

"Too bad Director Thornton's out of town, his words would carry a lot of weight in the right ears." Meriwether sighs, his gangly frame seeming to fold in on itself in his despair. "So what do we do, if we're the only ones to know the end of everything's taking place as soon as tomorrow?"

"What we can, my friend. Go home and make sure our friends and loved ones are safe. Now, I'm going to lunch in the cafeteria. I hear the chicken salad is excellent today. Why not join me, hmm?" Williams sympathetically pats his distraught colleague on the back as they leave the stage.

* * *

Mac's always trusted his gut feelings to get him out of a jam. But what his intuition's telling him now has him, ironically enough, almost paralyzed with fear.

He sighs and closes his eyes, trying to banish the overwhelming sense of unreality settling over him. For years he's been the one who can solve any problem, avert almost any disaster by a modest amount of knowledge, skill and a lot of sheer luck.

Not this time.

"Oh, god," Becky whispers, her eyes wide with shock. "It's really gonna happen, isn't it?" A strong intuitive sense runs in the family. Good thing, too.

"Yeah," he answers softly. "Bound to happen sooner or later like they said. But now that it's here..." He shakes his head. "Gotta admit I don't know what to do, Beck."

"Me neither," she reluctantly admits. "Maybe we should call someone, but who? Everyone we know is out of town. Penny's up north filming a series in Vancouver, Jack Dalton's flying one of his long-distance cargo hauls, and Pete's in D.C. with back-to-back meetings. Even Nikki's somewhere in Europe on assignment. Fortunately they'll be well out of range when it happens."

"Yeah, but what about the Mayor, the Governor? We gotta warn them."

"Unc, didn't you hear what they said? They already tried everyone, even the news media. And if no one wanted to listen to a warning from two respected Phoenix scientists, how could we possibly convince anyone ourselves, with no proof other than a gut feeling?"

"There's gotta be a way. I keep feeling we should be doing something. Warning people, telling them to get out of town. Anything better than just sitting here."

Becky takes a deep breath. She places a gentle hand on his arm, grounding him. Remarkably calm in a crisis, another family trait. "I feel the same way, believe me. But there's nothing we can do. Unless," she adds with a wry smile, "you can stop a major earthquake with paperclips, chewing gum and duck tape."

He rolls his eyes but the slumped shoulders acknowledge his defeat. "Point taken. Guess we go to Plan B, then."

"What's Plan B?"

Mac turns to her, utterly serious. "We leave. For good."

"Okay. But where to? Pete's cabin?"

"Not exactly. Jack and I worked it out years ago, right after you moved in with me. If the end of the world happens or whatever, we head straight for his place in Colorado Springs."

"Military protection if things get ugly, so to speak."

He nods, glumly. "Yeah. You know me, I like to hope for the best. But in this case-"

"Better prepare for the worst." She sighs. "Yeah, Unc. I got it. Plan B it is."

* * *

They drive in ordinary traffic from the Foundation's offices in Santa Monica back to the apartment in West L.A. Everything appears so normal, it's hard to believe at any time it could become a frenzied rush of fleeing urbanites.

Becky flicks her gaze to her uncle. Mac's staring fixedly ahead, long fingers tapping against the steering wheel and a tightness to his strong jawline. Worrying about everything and everyone as he does.

She's concerned as well but panicking about the inevitable won't make it go away, as her mom used to say. Better to face certain disaster with a clear head.

Once at the apartment they both swing into action. Becky's already wearing jeans (casual Friday in the office) but changes her blouse for a practical denim shirt and flats for sneakers. Opens her closet, standing on tiptoes to reach for an old Army canvas duffel belonging to Mac, along with a travel bag she uses for overnight trips. Spreads them open on the bed beside a blue backpack, battered from years of carrying schoolbooks yet still sturdy.

She pauses, thinking fondly of her mother packing for her, three suitcases' worth of clothes and goodies for a summer vacation with Uncle Mac in L.A., fourteen years ago. Overkill perhaps, but Allison Grahme always believed in being prepared for anything.

Becky mentally shakes herself. Time to focus on the present.

_Keep your feet on the ground, girl._

Clothes. More jeans, sweaters, flannel shirts and T-shirts. Hooded sweatshirts and sweatpants. Socks- cotton, wool and fuzzy. Shorts, underwear. Second pair of sneakers, hiking boots, a pair of sandals. Also cold-weather gear- gloves, waterproof jacket, long underwear, knit hat. Two blouses, slacks, skirt, nylons and pair of flats, in case she has to dress formally for some reason.

She meets Mac in the bathroom as they pack toiletries. "You got room for extra toilet paper?" she asks, as casually as if it were an ordinary camping trip.

He bends, reaching into the cabinet. "Yeah."

"Good." After he pulls out she ducks under, to retrieve a package of pads. Damned if she won't face her detested periods without them, end of the world or no.

Back to her room, opening the jewelry chest on the dresser. Nothing of monetary worth, but some have sentimental value. Such as the hummingbird necklace, a treasured gift from a friend, and a heart-shaped locket in antique gold containing family pictures. She places both into a small velvet bag.

Speaking of family pictures...

She takes the time to carefully separate the photos on the dresser from their frames and slip them into an envelope. Her mom, dad and brother. Herself and her uncles, at her high school graduation. Jack Dalton, Pete, Nikki and Penny, taken during a surprise birthday party for Mac at Phoenix.

Good times. Happy times.

Becky holds back a sob at the surge of memories, almost absurdly glad their friends are far away from here.

Enough. Back to work.

She wishes she could take every book she owns but space is limited. Settles for some of her most favorite fantasy and sci-fi works, including one she's reading now- _Cyteen_ by C.J. Cherryh. Also a collection of world mythologies and _The Norton Anthology of English Literature_, holdovers from college.

On her desk are grammar books and dictionaries in Latin and Esperanto, languages she's learning for fun. Might as well pack them too.

"You ready, Beck?" Mac's standing by her door, dressed in jeans, t-shirt and flannel shirt under his signature brown leather jacket, hair curling just above the collar. Leather travel bag and the red nylon gym bag he usually takes to hockey practice in his hands, backpack slung around one shoulder. Still worried but ultimately resigned to their fate, whatever it may be.

"Almost. You got through to Jack yet?"

He shakes his head. "Left a message on his machine. Must be at work."

"Right." Only a few things left to pack. Wallet and other items from her purse, glasses case, sleeping mask, Walkman and spare batteries, select tapes. Her very own pocketknife. Stashes it all in the blue backpack, zips everything up.

She swallows, taking one last look around, then hefts her bags and follows Mac downstairs.

They load the back of the jeep, adding a cooler with ice packs and cardboard boxes, filled with food from the fridge and pantry. Also jugs of water, spare gas can, sleeping bags, camping tent, first aid kit. Same as for any ordinary camping trip, save for a thick wad of cash- the family emergency fund- stashed in the bottom of Mac's backpack, portable radio with extra batteries, and a shoebox filled with spare Swiss Army Knives and duck tape.

"Got a full tank of gas," Mac says, "and I checked both oil and air in the tires. We're good to go."

"Great, but we'd better shut off the gas and unplug certain appliances and electronics, too. Don't want to cause a fire on top of everything else."

"That's my girl. Thinking ahead as always."

She almost bumps into him as he comes to a halt by the front door after taking care of everything. "What's wrong?"

He sighs, rubbing the back of his neck. "Just wanted to take one last look around, you know? Never stayed so long in one place before, save for Mission City. Guess it's a lot harder to leave than I thought it would be."

She can only nod agreement, finding it too difficult to talk with the lump in her throat.

For half of her life this was a second home: comfortable mismatched furniture, an eclectic mix of souvenirs from Mac's travels, stacks of books and assorted sports equipment. Some decorative and organizational touches of her own here and there. A warm, cozy atmosphere.

So many good memories.

The apartment shakes slightly. Pictures rattle on the walls, books and knickknacks fall to the floor. Becky resists the urge to pick them up, choosing instead to follow her uncle out the door.

"Must be our cue to leave." He locks the door behind them, a trace of melancholy in his flippant words.

"Must be." She blinks back unexpected tears. He gently cups her cheek and she gratefully leans into his touch.

"Hey sweetheart, don't worry," his voice full of warm encouragement. "It'll be tough going for a while, but you can do this. Be brave, okay?"

Trust her Uncle Mac to always say the right thing. "Okay."

"Ready?"

She takes a deep breath, gives a short, decisive nod. "Ready."

A new chapter of their life's about to begin, one with an uncertain future. So be it.

As long as they're together, everything will be all right.

* * *

The Phoenix Foundation has a cabin in the Angeles National Forest, high in the San Gabriel Mountains. Close to the city yet just far enough away to make for a comfortable weekend retreat.

Mac and Becky have the place to themselves (he knows where Pete keeps the spare key), so they spend the first night in relative comfort. Electricity, hot water and a big stone fireplace, perfect for toasting marshmallows and sharing stories by firelight. Cozy beds with actual sheets and blankets.

Becky sighs contentedly, snuggling into warmth. Mac's soft, familiar snores in the other bed and the slow chirping of crickets outside the bedroom window soothe her into deep sleep.

For an uncertain future it's a good beginning.

* * *

Mac wakes suddenly. His eyes dart around his surroundings, vision adjusting to the darkness.

In the other bed Becky softly sighs in her sleep. In the first few years, he used to sit by her bed after coming home late from a mission. Watching her, reassuring himself she's alive and well. That he still has a reason to keep going.

Otherwise the night is still and quiet. Too quiet, old DXS instincts insist.

There's a faint shiver along his spine, the kind he gets when something bad's about to happen.

All his senses on high alert now, he gets out of bed and gently rests a hand on her shoulder, nudging her awake. "Becky, wake up."

She yawns, blinking in the darkness. "Aw c'mon, Unc. Five more minutes, okay? Not even light outside yet."

"I'm serious. Got a bad feeling something's about to happen."

"Like what?"

A sudden large jolt, followed quickly by a violent shaking that seems to go on forever.

Becky sits up quickly, eyes wide. "Oh, no..."

He struggles to stay on his feet. "Let's get outta here."

No further argument as she puts on her glasses, grabs his hand. They hurry out of the bedroom as objects come crashing down around them.

The cabin's black as pitch, a grim imitation of a carnival funhouse. Every time they take a step, they're practically thrown from side to side. Mac can hear the crashing of glass, the groaning of the house as it rocks to and fro, and beneath it all, the rumbling of the earth itself as the quake spends its massive amount of energy. Wooden beams creak ominously.

Finally they reach the front door, pushing it open and making a mad dash outside. The ground continues to lurch under them for a few more seconds, then finally stops.

Thank god.

Not even dawn yet, but the world's suddenly full of noise as if it were high noon. Birds chirping their distress, dogs barking. The distant shrieking of alarms and wailing of sirens off to the west.

Becky shudders. "God. Must be chaos down there. Good thing we got out when we did."

"Yeah." He nods towards the jeep. "Let's sit in there for a while. Safer than back inside the cabin."

An aftershock rumbles under their feet. "Good idea," she agrees.

They unroll their sleeping bags and spread them around themselves, a layer of warmth against the early-morning chill.

Mac leans his head against the back of the driver's seat and closes his eyes, feeling suddenly drained. Probably as a result of the near-panicked flight from the cabin, post-adrenaline crash after being thrown into a crisis. An all-too-familiar sensation.

The car rocks to and fro, reminding them again of what they'd just been through.

He hears the static and jumbled sounds of a radio being tuned. He opens his eyes to see Becky fiddling with the dials.

"Just want to see if I can get any news," she says, before finally settling on a local all-news channel.

Mac shifts into a slightly more comfortable position and closes his eyes again. He's still too keyed up to sleep, but it's calming to sit there and let the voices on the radio lull him into an in-between state, neither awake nor asleep.

Now if only those darn nerve-rattling aftershocks could just stop.

* * *

Becky's eyes fly open. Just after dawn, she guesses by how much lighter the sky has become.

There's an eerie stillness and she's positive she can smell smoke in the air. Probably more than a few fires set ablaze. She's obscurely grateful she insisted on turning off the gas back at the apartment, all things considered.

A shiver runs along her spine, a feeling something really bad is about to happen.

She reaches over, touching his arm. "Unc, wake up."

Unlike her, he's used to waking up fairly quickly. "What is it, Beck?"

A loud shrieking, groaning sound arises to the west, getting even louder. Becky winces and covers her ears.

Mac pushes his sleeping bag out of the way. "Better check it out. Get the binoculars from the glove compartment, willya?"

They walk a few yards, stopping short of the cliff's edge. Good thing the cabin's well away from here, she thinks with a shudder. Otherwise they might've toppled over with the first quake.

The view to the west's one of complete and utter devastation, as far as she can see. Something about the ground seems distorted somehow, though she can't lay a finger as to what.

There's also an awful lot of haze in the air, different quality than the usual smog.

"Think that's just smoke?" Becky wonders.

"Maybe," Mac replies dubiously. "An awful lot of it, though. More than during wildfire season, though I don't see how."

The view shifts again. Almost is if it's shrinking...?

A sick feeling settles in the pit of her stomach. She grabs the binoculars for confirmation.

No, not shrinking. It's _sinking_.

Mac swallows, eyes wide. "Aw man. Is it doing what I think it's doing?"

She can only nod in reply, eyes equally wide. Involuntarily she and Mac move way back from the edge.

The whole of the L.A. Basin's steadily dropping downwards, probably several hundred feet.

And that's not all.

Where earthquakes happen- especially along the notorious Ring of Fire encircling the Pacific Ocean- there are bound to be tsunamis, as the undersea floor shakes and settles.

Massive walls of water surge in, rising high into the air then come crashing down, wreaking havoc in their wake. One tidal wave after another without receeding, until only the upper thirds of the tallest buildings are visible above the surface.

Mac and Becky can only watch, mute witnesses to the destruction raining down upon what was once a thriving metropolis.

Which, as they soon find out, is only the beginning.

* * *

It's not the worst road trip Mac's ever been on, but certainly one of the most surreal. And far from over.

Soon as they reach Victorville they find themselves practically riding point on a flood of refugees headed for Las Vegas, across the Mojave Desert. Not to gamble but to live in disaster relief camps, set up south of the city.

Everyone who can is fleeing inland for safety, it seems.

Significant seismic activity's not limited to Southern California or the West Coast. Not anymore, at least.

According to the news on the radio, the 12-point quake's set of something of a chain reaction, up the coast and all around the Pacific. More earthquakes and tsunamis, even select volcanoes erupting.

Damage already counted in billions of dollars, and millions of lives.

Meriwether and Williams were right, the poor guys. The end of everything, and nothing he and Becky can do about it.

Except survive.

* * *

"Jack, it's Mac. Thought you'd like to know we're still alive. Passing through Vegas now, on our way up I-15. If you haven't already figured it out from the news, this is Plan B. Be sure to leave a light on for us, willya? See you soon."

He hangs up the phone, disgusted at having to leave yet another message. What's his brother doing that keeps him so busy all the time?

A chunk of the emergency cash goes to fill up the jeep and spare can with gas (prices are astronomical with the current crisis, but there's no choice) and buy a few foodstuffs to augment their supply. Then it's on the road again.

In St. George he tries again. Not even a dial tone to be had. Phone service must be down all over the West, now.

A minor symptom of the major chaos to come.

* * *

They make their way in a northeasterly fashion, but it's slow going. All manner of roadblocks cross their path, from aftershocks rippling through the ground to landslides to fighting refugee traffic heading in the opposite direction. (Is there something else going on they don't know about yet?)

Fortunately it's early October, with the hottest days of the year behind them. Though at this rate Becky reckons it'll be almost winter by the time they reach Colorado Springs.

Days are spent driving as far as they can, using their dwindling supply of gas plus more siphoned from cars abandoned along the way.

Sooner or later they'll have to abandon the jeep altogether, but not yet. Mac's become an expert at keeping his pride and joy running as long as it has.

Nights are spent trying to pick up radio signals bouncing off the ionosphere, piecing together the news of a world inexplicably and inevitably dying.

Tremors are taking place along all of the world's faultlines, tsunamis sweeping away major population centers near every ocean. Previously inactive volcanoes beginning to show signs of life once again.

People panicking, rioting and looting in the streets of what cities remain intact. Governments collapsing everywhere.

It's rather frightening just how tenuous the veneer of civilization really is, when it comes to a crisis of this magnitude.

Worse yet, no one knows why it's happening, or if anything can be done to stop it. Odds are, Becky thinks with a trace of cynicism, if anyone does know they're probably keeping it to themselves.

After taking in as much of the day's crises as they can stand, they fix a hot meal over a campfire and spread out their sleeping bags to spoon together, Mac's arms gently cradling her.

No guns of course, but that doesn't mean they haven't created any weapons of their own, just in case. It's nothing less than a miracle they haven't encountered any threats along the way, human or animal. That doesn't mean it won't happen at all, however. Best to remain vigilant most of the time.

Yet the way Mac holds her at night, protecting her as he always has, keeping her safe and warm-

It's the only time she can relax, lately.

* * *

The airwaves these days are chock full of every kind of crazy theory or rant as to the cause. Alien influence, multinational government conspiracy, divine judgement or what have you.

Good thing neither of them buy into that garbage. Mac's always been the skeptic in the family, and she has a pretty good head on her shoulders herself, with a clear sense of when she's hearing utter balderdash. Things just happen, that's all.

Time to be realistic. No salvation's coming for them. No means of escape off Earth, either. The human race is finished, and not even by its own collective hand. It's the planet itself that's doing them in.

Once they reach Grand Junction the tremors start up again, after a whole week of quiet. Even worse than before.

Yet they keep following the road, in the general direction of Colorado Springs.

Besides, stubbornness runs in the family. Mac and Becky aren't quitters by any means.

Jack's waiting for them, after all. Wouldn't do to disappoint him.

* * *

The original plan was to take I-70 over the mountains to Denver and head south from there. However a massive landslide's blocking traffic west of Vail, with cars abandoned on both sides of the road. Meaning they have to backtrack a ways to where Highway 24 heads south, a more convoluted route over the mountains.

Every community they're going through has been turned into ghost towns seemingly overnight. It's downright eerie.

Their faithful jeep finally gives up the ghost just east of Hartsel. When a thunderstorm rolls in she spies a storage barn large enough to provide shelter for the night, and they push the vehicle inside just in time.

Rain drums against the metal roof. Farm machinery slowly rusts in piles. The scent of used engine oil makes Becky's nose wrinkle.

Mac takes out the map, spreads it on the hood. "So we're about here," he says, tapping a long finger on the paper. "60 miles to go before we reach Colorado Springs, more or less. Only take us a few more days walking. Not bad, considering."

"All of it uphill," she sighs. "Through the Rockies on foot in the middle of fall. Just peachy."

"Yeah, I know it's not the most ideal time of the year for this, but we gotta keep going. C'mon, we're almost there."

"But I'm _tired_, Unc," she can't help whining. "Can't we just find a house somewhere nearby and hibernate until spring?"

He raises an eyebrow at her and she sighs. "I know, I know," she grumbles. "God, I wish we were there already."

"You and me both. C'mon, let's eat and get some rest."

Dinner consists of protein bars and water from the canteen. They lean against the jeep and Becky shivers, tugging her jacket tighter around her. Fall comes on fast in the higher elevations, and the wind already carries a biting chill.

Mac opens one of the sleeping bags, drapes it around them. He slips an arm around Becky, holding her next to his heart. She burrows into his jacket with a faint sigh.

"I'm scared."

"We'll be fine," he says softly. "Just a little more."

"Don't know if I can take this much longer. I really don't."

"Yes, you can. I'm so proud of you, you know that? More of a trooper than I ever expected. My brave princess."

She can't help but chuckle. "I'm 28, you realize. A bit old to be a princess."

"Not to me." Soft press of lips against the top of her head. "Night, Beck."

"Night, Unc." She relaxes against him, sheltered from the storm in more ways than one. Falling into a deep sleep.

Morning is for unloading the jeep, taking stock and balancing the load between them. There isn't much food or potable water left, but it still turns out to be a whole lot for each of them to carry.

Mac looks around the barn, brow furrowed in thought. "With the machinery in here I can probably rig up a cart or something to carry our stuff instead."

"If anybody can, it's you," she agrees.

He does. It's not bad, wheels and axles and pipes and boards. Kinda cute, in a way.

* * *

For some reason Mac can't remember they decided to veer off course, believing a smaller road through the forest would be a more effective shortcut than further slogging along the highway. He's too tired to figure out where they're supposed to be now.

Reduced to eating berries and whatever else can be scrounged off the land after their food stash was raided by animals two nights ago. Only water to be had comes from the occasional mountain stream.

He's an expert in wilderness survival, but even so it's hard to find enough to eat at this altitude that hasn't already been gathered in at this time of the year.

Both on their last legs, dead tired and nearly starving.

There's no choice. They've gotta keep going.

One step after another.

The ground shakes under their feet but they're used to it by now. Even the Rockies aren't immune to seismic shifts.

Yet this time it's particularly bad, and there's no protective shelter to be had anywhere in sight.

The shaking soon stops, but the rumbling continues.

Becky frowns, glancing up the slope. "You hear something?"

A few rocks tumble down the mountainside, then more and more.

Landslide approaching, and fast.

Mac grabs Becky's hand, pulls her along as he breaks into a run. If they can get out of range in time...

Too late.

* * *

Head pounding in pain, Mac struggles to get everything off of his niece's buried form.

"Hang on, princess. Almost there."

When the last of the debris is removed his breath catches in his throat. Scratches and bruises along her face and hands. Glasses askew and a little scratched, though not broken (scant consolation, really).

There's a vertical gash in her left side, a deep one.

Becky moans, just barely this side of conscious. "Unc...hurts..."

"It's okay, Beck. I got you."

He removes his shirt, tears it into strips. Presses the fabric against her wound. She's losing a lot of blood. Not much he can do otherwise.

If he was particularly religious he'd pray for a miracle at this point.

Then it happens anyway.

He can't believe what he's hearing at first. The distinct, rhythmic thumping of a helicopter, maybe a mile away or less judging by the sound.

There's a flare gun in one of the outer pockets of his knapsack. Hurts like heck when he twists his arm a bit but he manages to reach it.

Mac really wants to lay down and sleep by his niece's side, but if he does he may not want to wake again. Ever.

He's gotta keep going, for Becky's sake as well as his own.

The helicopter's coming closer. It's now or never.

With a mighty effort he raises the gun straight above his head, fires.

The flare shoots up into the sky, explodes.

Suddenly it's too much. There's nothing more he can do. He'll die here right beside his beloved niece, lost somewhere in the middle of the Rocky Mountains. Jack would never know what happened, his only clue a couple cryptic telephone messages.

Mac wants to laugh at the irony, but he's way too tired.

Lies back against the cool rock, barely able to keep his eyes open. Hurting all over.

There's a loud rhythmic thumping sound in his ears, perhaps his heartbeat. No, it's the helicopter, he reminds himself.

Through narrowed eyes a glimpse of small landing wheels under the black body of a helicopter, coming to rest against the ground not far away. Then a pair of black combat boots, hurrying towards him.

"Geez. You two just can't keep out of trouble, can ya?"

The last person he ever expected to see, kneeling beside him. Same rugged features, velvet-brown eyes, familiar smirk. Hair much shorter, darker and sprinkled with gray. Dressed in green and black with unusual shoulder patches, under a rescue vest.

"Jack...?"

His twin gives a wry smile. "Good to see you too. Both of you." Frowns at the sight of their wounds. "For crying out loud. What the hell happened to you guys?"

"Tremor...landslide," Mac mutters, wavering in and out of consciousness. "Jack...Becky..."

Jack turns to her, gently touching her cheek. "Hey, sweetheart," he croons softly. "How're you doing?"

"Hurts..." Her voice a bare whisper.

"Sorry to hear that, Beck. Don't worry, you're safe now."

"Oh, good..." She faints.

"Damn." Jack lays two long fingers against her neck, then sighs in relief. "Faint but there, at least. Good thing I spotted that flare of yours when I did, huh?"

A second helicopter lands nearby, several Marines emerge. Jack waves them over. "All right, get some stretchers over here, on the double!"

A medic kneels next to Mac, carefully inspecting him for a concussion or any signs of spinal damage while the one from the other helicopter checks on Becky. She takes her vitals, injects a syringe into her arm. "She needs surgery, but we got to them just in time, Colonel," she yells to Jack.

"Thank god," Jack mutters under his breath. "Load 'em on the choppers," he orders, "and be extra careful about it. They're family."

As Mac's carefully lifted onto a stretcher he waves weakly towards the overturned cart. "Jack...our stuff..."

"Yeah, got it." Jack gestures to the Marines. "C'mon, grab their stuff and let's get back to base already. Don't wanna be out here when the ground starts shaking again. Move it, people!"

Mac's absurdly fascinated despite his exhaustion. He's never seen his twin in full military mode before.

A jostle as he's loaded onto one helicopter, while Marines carry a rather pale Becky onto the other.

"Alright Sheppard," Jack says to the pilot. "Contact the base. Two incoming wounded, one needing surgery ASAP. Let's blow this joint."

The pilot nods. With a slight jerk the helicopter rises into the air.

There's a sting as a medic slips a needle into Mac's arm, then blessed relief from the pain.

"Got your messages, Mac," Jack murmurs. "Plan B's accomplished. Good job. You're both safe now. Relax."

Thank god.

He lets the healing darkness take him away.


	5. Search and Rescue

Jack frowns at the map spread out on his desk, thoughtfully traces their route with a long finger. I-15 through Las Vegas, then I-70 eastward through the Rockies to Denver, then south on I-25.

His brother and niece should've been here by now, going the usual way. Though there's very little of the usual going on lately, truth be told.

Still, they're overdue by a lot. No way of telling if they had to take a detour, even. He devoutly wishes he knew more. Mac and Becky are the only family-by-blood he has left, after all. He'd do anything to make sure they're safe.

(He now has a second family-by-work here, under Cheyenne Mountain. He'd do anything for them, too.)

Hopefully they'll be here by the time the contingency plan goes into effect.

Two cryptic messages on his machine at home are all the warning Jack's been given. The latest well over a week ago before the phone system went down throughout the west, with nary a peep afterwards.

Plan B. If worst comes to worst, they immediately pull up stakes and join him here, in Colorado Springs. Safest place to be, after the collapse of Civilization As We Know It and all that crap.

Thing is, no place on earth's exactly safe anymore, is it?

The floor shakes slightly under his feet and he grimaces. Case in point.

"Sir?"

His 2IC's standing in the doorway, short blonde hair backlit by lighting in the corridor. Blue BDU making her eyes an even more alluring shade of blue.

Samantha Carter, the very model of a modern major-physicist. Gorgeous and courageous and smart as a whip.

The one he cares about. Far, far, more than he's supposed to.

He never thought he'd find someone else so compatible after divorcing Sara, not that he's had much time for relationships lately. Yet here she is, and there's no way in hell they can be together as he'd like.

Doesn't take a Tok'ra mind probe to realize how much he's in love with her already.

Damn the regulations. Why doesn't he just tell her how he feels and be done with it? The world's coming to an end anyway, at least she'd know!

Maybe, just maybe, he'd find out if she feels the same.

Yeah, right. And Teal'c will be singing Broadway musicals next.

She shifts on her feet, frowning slightly. "Um, Colonel? You okay?"

"Never better, Carter." He folds the map, tucking it in a drawer away from her curious gaze. "What is it?"

"General Hammond wants everyone in the conference room right away. A location for the contingency plan's been chosen."

"Good. Hope it'll be someplace tropical," he says, falling into step with her. "I've spent so much time down here lately, my tan's starting to fade."

"Well, every planet has an equator, like anything with a spherical shape. Though due to the differences in axial tilt they wouldn't necessarily have tropical zones like ours, so..." Sam's voice trails off as she catches the teasing glint in his eyes. "Ah, I think you've had plenty of opportunities to work on your tan already, sir. What with all the scouting expeditions we've been sent on to find suitable locations for the contingency plan."

Jack grins. "You're catching on, Carter."

A lot more people in the corridors these days, result of the systematic ingathering of anyone having to do with the Stargate program- civilian as well as military, actual involvement as well as potential- before the quakes and tsunamis shut down international travel for good.

Jack hides an involuntary wince as they sidle around knots of squabbling professionals. Being a man of action he's never been comfortable around most science-minded folk save for Sam and Daniel, not to mention Mac with his chemistry and engineering degrees and Becky with her double doctorates. Everyone else bores him silly; them, he tolerates and respects- and loves- enough to let them do what they do.

(Not that he'd ever admit it to their faces, though. He does have a reputation to uphold.)

Then there's the influx of refugees being housed on levels 5-7 after being processed outside the base, seeking shelter from the chaos beyond Cheyenne Mountain. Ordinary folk who've never had the slightest inkling a secret intergalactic war's been going on above their heads for the past several years.

Civilians like his own brother and niece, if they ever get here.

So yeah, it's getting kinda crowded around the ol' SGC these days.

All part of the contingency plan.

The conference room's packed with members of other teams not already on missions, along with other senior staff and various department heads. Daniel's too deep in discussion at one end of the table to notice his teammates' entrance, but Teal'c nods gravely at Jack and Sam as they take their places beside him.

"Any bets as to the most likely planet, T?" Jack asks the Jaffa warrior.

"I do not bet, O'Neill. Warriors on Chulak often placed wagers for reasons I considered most foolish. While other Primes encouraged such an activity, I sought other means to improve morale among those under my command."

"Aw c'mon. Don't tell me you've never once placed a wager on anything?"

"Indeed I have not. It is, as you Tau'ri say, throwing good currency after bad."

Jack's about to make a witty retort concerning their team poker nights when General George Hammond enters the room. All military personnel immediately straighten and salute while the scientists respectfully incline their heads.

"At ease," he says with a nod. "Ladies and gentlemen, I'm afraid I have sad news to report before we get started. At 0730 this morning a 9.5 earthquake was registered along the Atlantic Fault. Consequently a series of tsunamis hit the East Coast not more than half an hour later, centering on Washington D.C. and environs. The President, his family, and the entire Cabinet were in the White House when the first wave hit. There has also been no word from the Pentagon nor any other agency pertaining to SGC operations, including the IOA."

A murmur of surprise ripples through the room. Hammond lifts his hand and it subsides. "Therefore we should consider ourselves entirely on our own, effective immediately. This possibility has already been included in the contingency plan for some time."

"Damned Big Quake took a chunk out of California," Louis Ferretti grumbles. "That's what got the ball rolling." Hammond shoots him a look. "Sorry, sir."

The floor shakes slightly, as if to punctuate Ferretti's statement.

Jack sighs and passes a hand over his face, grateful that Mac and Becky got out while the getting was good. Must've had pretty strong gut feelings something bad was about to go down.

Much like the one telling him they're still alive, out there.

"Dr. Akimoto," Hammond addresses an Asian man at the table straightening his tie, "what has your team discovered about the current situation?"

He swallows before speaking. "Our seismologists and geophysicists have confirmed an exponential increase of earthquakes and tremors worldwide, caused by serious instability within the inner and outer cores. It's only a matter of time before the planet breaks up completely."

"How long would you say we have?"

"By our calculations- four months, tops."

A stunned silence follows. Even Jack finds himself unable to come up with a snarky comment.

The end of the world, just like that. And nothing can be done to stop it, even with every technological trick at their disposal.

Hammond clears his throat. "Based on the circumstances, I have no choice but to put the contingency plan into effect, as of now. While our offworld sites will continue to be used for backup and evacuation, they're far from suitable for long-term habitation. A fourth site- hereafter designated as New Earth- will therefore be created for permanent settlement of civilians as well as auxiliary personnel and the re-establishment of the SGC."

He turns his attention to the scientists seated at the table. "Dr. Giovanni. As chief planetologist, which world have you decided upon as the most likely candidate?"

A brunette woman stands unsteadily on her feet. "Based on scouting reports from the SG teams, sir, my team's come to the conclusion that PX35-172 is the obvious choice. Planetary conditions are the most favorable, with oceans, two continents and several archipelagos. The ecosphere's comparable to our own, though a light shade of cyan seems to be the predominant color of photosynthesis instead of green. A mild, temperate climate prevails on the northern half of the main continent, the most suitable for settlement."

"Which possesses a fascinating geological phenomenon," Akimoto pipes up. "Two mountain ranges complete with foothills face each other, forming an elliptical valley 150 miles long by 60 miles wide," sketching in the air with his hands two arcs not quite touching each other, "with gaps at the north and south to allow for a river running through. The valley's large and rather fertile, with the Gate near the exact center."

"Dr. Mkumbe, any biological threats?"

"No contaminants or pollution present in the atmosphere," states an elegant black woman sitting opposite Akimoto. "I cannot determine if any viral or bacterial threats are present until a more thorough assessment can be done on site."

"Dr. Jackson, what about indigenous populations?"

"No signs of current habitation anywhere on the planet, human or otherwise," Daniel says after consulting his notes. "Which is surprising, considering the presence of the Gate and the suitability of the climate. However, there's a sizeable Ancient outpost near the base of the eastern mountain range, almost a city in and of itself. I'm looking forward to investigating, once everything's set up."

"Thank you, doctors. Major Alvarez," Hammond addresses a Hispanic man at the opposite end of the table, badge of the AFCE on his BDU. "I don't envy you the challenges ahead for you and your team. This is a very big project you're about to undertake, and the time window is relatively short for all you need to accomplish."

"No problem, sir," Alvarez replies with confidence. "Just let me know how much of my materials and equipment can get through that Gate of yours and we'll take care of the rest. I've handled worse conditions prepping air bases in the Middle East."

"Very good. Are there any questions?"

Sam puts her hand up. "Sir, what about defense? If we become distracted during relocating that may leave us wide open to attack by one of the System Lords."

"That's already well in hand, Major. The Asgard have agreed to remotely monitor Earth and our solar system in case of incursion. They've also promised to defend us, should it occur while we're at our most vulnerable during the transition."

Hammond sweeps his gaze over each and every individual in the room, making sure he's got their full attention. "Ladies and gentlemen, much as it pains me to admit it, the situation on Earth has become untenable. Steps must be taken to ensure our survival elsewhere. As of now we're on the clock. Four months to put the contingency plan into effect."

"And then, sir?" Ferretti asks.

"Zero hour," Hammond says firmly. "Complete and total evacuation to New Earth. I don't believe I have to remind everyone present nothing less than the future of our species is at stake. There's a lot to do and not much time to do it in, so every second counts. Dismissed."

"Sounds like we have our work cut out for us," Jack comments as the crowd breaks up.

"We'll get it done sir," Sam says. "We've faced threats against far worse odds over the years, and we've always succeeded."

"I admire your confidence, Carter. Speaking of work," he adds with a cheeky grin as Daniel joins them, "how's it going with the translation stuff? Cracked the code yet?"

The archaeologist groans. "Not exactly, Jack."

"Getting an Ancient database stuck in my head for a while doesn't count as help, huh?"

Daniel sighs, pinching the bridge of his nose. "You know it's more complicated than that. It'll take a while besides, since I'm the only one currently proficient in the language. And now I have to personally oversee the packing and removal of artifacts and reference materials to New Earth on top of that."

"Sounds like a full plate," Jack comments, very dry.

"You've no idea. I'd kill for a knowledgeable assistant, but haven't found one yet."

Sam frowns. "Really? All the scientists on base, and there isn't another linguist or anthropologist available to share your workload?"

He shrugs. "Everyone else in my department's already assigned to other SG teams, it wouldn't be fair to just yank one of them away to lend me a hand."

Jack smirks to himself, thinking of Becky. He'll have to hook them up, they'd be perfect for each other. "You never know, Danny. Help might just be around the corner. Now c'mon, let's get something to eat. With luck we can get to the mess before they run out of cake."

* * *

The atmosphere in the commissary's more subdued than normal, as everyone present absorbs the impact of the General's decision.

Jack toys with a cup of coffee, automatically tuning out Carter and Daniel as they discuss a topic that's already way over his head.

"A small denomination coin for your contemplations, O'Neill." Teal'c gazes at him from across the table, not even a trace of anxiety on his impassive features.

"That's a penny for your thoughts," Jack absently counters.

"And what are your thoughts, at this moment? Are you disturbed by the words of General Hammond?"

"Guess I am. To openly acknowledge the world's coming to an end is one thing, even if everyone already knows. But a full-on evacuation through the Gate to another planet- leaving Earth for good, never to return..." Jack shrugs. "Hard to wrap my head around, you know?"

"A strange saying. Is that not physically impossible?"

He can't help but chuckle. "You can say that. Just makes me feel like we're running away from everything we know and love about this crazy old world, that's all."

"I would indeed feel the same, should my homeworld be in danger. What you must remember is that you will be living to fight another day. Do not fear, O'Neill. Our mutual goal of overthrowing the Goa'uld and ending the slavery of my people can be pursued no matter where you Tau'ri call home."

Jack lifts his head and gives Teal'c a long, speculative stare. He tends to forget the Jaffa warrior's far older than he appears. Wiser, too. "You have a point there, T. Thanks."

A regal nod. "You are welcome."

A small short jolt surprises everyone, followed several seconds later by a few strong, sharp shakes. Beverages slosh around in their glasses. Pictures rattle on the walls.

"For crying out loud," Jack mutters. "What the hell was that?"

"A little scary, for one thing," Daniel says, glancing with startled eyes around the room. "That felt awfully close."

"Stronger than what we've been getting so far, certainly," Sam agrees, brow furrowed in concern.

Jack's gut gives a twist, though not from the meatloaf. "Let's check it out, campers."

* * *

"Only 5.5 on the Richter scale," Akimoto says, gesturing at the jagged lines on the seismograph installed in the geology lab. "Epicenter's near Dome Rock, little more than 30 miles to the west."

"Not much around that area," Daniel says, consulting a satellite map. "Except perhaps for a few lone buildings. Though there may still be folks out there who haven't come seeking refuge here."

Hammond frowns. "Hard to believe, considering how many abandoned their own communities entirely to seek our protection."

A shiver tickles along Jack's spine as he stares at the map.

Mac and Becky. Could they be out that direction, in trouble? His gut feeling keeps insisting yes, and it hasn't failed him yet.

He picks up a marking pen and starts twirling it between his fingers, unable to otherwise conceal his sudden urgency to depart the confines of Cheyenne Mountain in search of his family.

Hammond's a decent, compassionate guy for a general, which Jack greatly appreciates (and tries hard not to take advantage of, too much). Surely he wouldn't approve of his 2IC leaving the SGC based on a mere hunch, though.

Or would he?

Carter eyes his fiddling and purses her lips. "Colonel, aren't you on SAR duty today? Wouldn't hurt to see if anyone needs help." She's pretty perceptive, even if thoughts of that mouth's inspiring notions of kissing her then and there.

He mentally shakes himself and looks to his CO instead. "Permission to do a recon sweep by helicopter, sir? In case?"

Hammond looks dubious, but nods. "Permission granted. I'll put in a call to Peterson, get the SAR team assembled."

* * *

Mid afternoon outside, the sky bright and clear with the air a little chillier than he expected. The bright colors of aspen leaves contrasting against dark evergreens make for a pleasing sight. A perfect fall day.

Staying under Cheyenne Mountain as long as he has lately, it's hard to believe actual seasons are still taking place outside.

High above the ground on a day like this it's hard to believe the very planet's breaking up under their feet, too.

Jack sits in the copilot's seat, rescue vest over his green BDU. Adjusts his sunglasses against the glare from the snow cap of Pike's Peak, passing just to his right.

Shadows of twin HH-60Gs flicker against the mountain, stark black against the white.

"We're coming up on Dome Rock in a couple minutes, sir," Major John Sheppard says from the pilot's seat. Decent enough guy, with a rakishness and twisted sense of humor rivaling his own. Not to mention unruly hair under the helmet that kinda reminds him of his twin's mullet, back in the day. "Should I do a 360 around the quake site?"

"Knock yourself out."

Sheppard expertly circles the helicopter around the formation, which likely earned its moniker due to its smooth, rounded appearance. At first Jack sees only trees, many downed by the tremor. Plus the odd herd of mountain goats, seriously spooked by the noise of their approach.

Nothing to justify the gut feeling of certainty that two of the five people most important to him are close by.

And then he sees it. The flash of a flare gun.

He looks to Sheppard, who nods. "Saw it too, sir. At ten o'clock."

The helicopter turns in that direction, reducing its speed for a closer look. Turns in a slow circle to survey the damage.

At first Jack doesn't see them.

Then with a lurch in his stomach, he does.

Two bodies sprawled at the bottom of a large pile of rubble, a tall man and a petite woman. Unconscious or nearly so, though the man's stirring a bit. A makeshift cart holding their stuff, overturned nearby.

"Looks like a flat spot to land by the creek," Sheppard says.

"Radio the other chopper. Tell them we're going in."

The HH-60G gently makes contact with the ground. "Wait for me until I give the signal," Jack orders the Marines and medic in the back of the aircraft. They nod assent.

He removes his sunglasses, takes a deep breath before opening the door. Steels himself. Whatever he finds he'll just have to take in stride.

Never in his life has he been so pleased to have his gut feeling proven right. And so dismayed at the same time.

It's definitely them.

His brother, his niece. The only blood relatives he has left.

Both look awful. Bedraggled and thin and oh, so pale. Bruises and scratches all over.

Blood trickles from a cut on Mac's forehead. He's drifting in and out of consciousness, blinking up at Jack as if in disbelief.

Becky's even worse. A really nasty vertical gash on her left side, blood flowing freely through the stained remnants of a flannel shirt. She moans softly, fading fast.

He swallows, reminding himself they're not gone yet.

Plan B successfully accomplished, just in time before the world comes to an end.

All he has to do now is swoop in and play the snarky hero. Thank god.

Jack kneels by his brother's side.

"Geez. You two just can't keep out of trouble, can ya?"

* * *

_Notes: _

_AFCE = Air Force Civil Engineers. _

_SAR = Search And Rescue. _

_HH-60G = Sikorsky HH-60 Black Hawk helicopter, used by the Air Force for combat search and rescue operations in the 1990s._


	6. Welcome In

"Coming through! One side! Make a hole!"

Daniel glances up from his book long enough to see two gurneys hurrying towards him, complete with medics tending to patients. He oblingingly steps aside to let them pass.

A glimpse of auburn hair gives him pause. Reminds him of someone, but can't remember who.

Hot on their heels comes Jack, looking more anxious than he's ever seen him before.

"What's going on?"

"Can't talk now, Danny," he throws over his shoulder. "Later."

Shaking his head Daniel watches as they push through the double doors of the infirmary at the end of the hall and disappear.

Yet the memory of burnished copper hair lingers in his mind. Why is that?

Oh, well. Maybe it'll come to him later.

* * *

He must've died and gone to heaven.

A beautiful angel's hovering over him, wide-set brown eyes and hair a shade brighter than Becky's. A light stabs into his eyes and he blinks.

"Mr. MacGyver? Can you hear me?"

The ghostly afterimages fade and his vision clears. His angel's still there, wearing a white coat over a uniform blouse with Air Force insignia.

"Wha'..." He swallows, mouth too dry for speaking.

"Relax, you're fine. Do you need some water?"

He nods, she brings him a cup with a straw. "Sip slowly, now."

The water's soothing. "Who are you?" he finally asks. "What happened to me? Where am I?"

She smiles. "I'm Dr. Fraiser. You and your niece were caught in a landslide. You had a mild concussion and your left wrist was sprained, so you're staying here overnight for observation. As to the last question..." A sly glance to one side and her smile turns impish. "I'll let your brother answer."

A familiar face comes into view. "Jack?"

Who smirks, tucking a yo-yo into a pocket of his green BDU. "Hey. How're you feeling?"

"Like a ton of rocks fell on top of me," he groans.

Jack chuckles. "Sounds about right."

Mac frowns, vaguely remembering helicopters and combat boots. "That was really you out there, then? Wasn't hallucinating or anything?"

"Nope."

Another flash of memory. Becky's pale form, bright red blood against her blue denim shirt.

He struggles to sit up. Jack's hands settle on his shoulders, gently yet firmly. "Whoa, now. Where you goin'?"

"Becky. Hurt real bad. I gotta find her."

"She's okay. She's in surgery. Don't worry, the docs here are the best. They'll fix her right up."

Mac raises a skeptical eyebrow, wincing at the slight tug on his forehead from the stitches. "You're not foolin' with me, are you?"

"Aw c'mon. Would I lie?" His twin affects an innocent expression and he can't help but chuckle. "Becky will be just fine," Jack adds, sobering. "Trust me. She's tough, you know that."

"Yeah. So, to change the subject- where am I?"

"Cheyenne Mountain. I work here."

Mac's brow furrows. "You're stationed at NORAD now?"

Jack gives a one-sided shrug. "Not exactly."

A brown-haired man in blue surgical scrubs stops in front of Mac's bed. "Colonel O'Neill," he greets in a soft lilting accent.

Jack nods affably in return. "Dr. Beckett."

"And Mr. MacGyver. Nice to meet a fellow Scotsman."

"Minnesotan, actually," Jack quips before Mac can say anything.

Beckett's eyes dart between the brothers in confusion. "Ah. Well, I wanted to let ye both know Rebecca's out of surgery. Lost quite a bit of blood, but no major organs were damaged and she's gotten some transfusions. A wee bit malnourished and dehydrated as well, but we're taking care of that with IVs."

"So she'll be okay, is that what you're saying?"

"Aye, Colonel. Your niece is a strong lass. She'll make a full recovery."

Mac realizes he's been holding his breath. He lets it out in relief.

"That's great news, doc. Thanks." Jack grins, lightly slaps Mac on the shoulder. "See? Told ya."

Mac ignores him. "Where is she? Can we see her yet?"

"We've set her up in Intensive Care. She'll be unconscious for a while longer. I wouldna see her until later tomorrow, though. She needs a lot of rest."

Fraiser returns, smiling at the other doctor. "Thanks for operating while I was busy earlier, Carson."

"My pleasure." A respectful nod of his head. "Good evening, gentlemen."

"All right, Colonel," she says briskly. "Visiting hours are over. You can pick your brother up tomorrow when he's discharged."

Jack grins down at the petite woman. "Sure thing, doc. Hey," he says with a playful nudge on Mac's shoulder, "do what she says, okay? If you don't she'll break out the big needles, and trust me, you wouldn't like that." He gives a mock shudder.

"You should remember to follow your own advice in future," she says dryly. She waves her hands in a shooing motion. "Now go on. Get."

He chuckles and throws them both a mock salute. "Yes, ma'am. See you guys in the morning."

Mac sighs. "Sorry about my brother. He's always been kinda nuts."

Fraiser chuckles. "I'm used to it. Jack and I are old friends." She makes an adjustment to his IV. "I'm going off shift but my nurses will be checking up on you and your niece from time to time. Is there anything you need right now, Mr. MacGyver?"

"Please, just MacGyver. Or you can call me Mac." He grins, inviting her to use the latter.

She cocks her head, clearly amused. She's awfully pretty. "All right- Mac. I'm Janet. Time to sleep now, all right?"

"Yes, ma'am."

A sigh of relief as his eyes close. Plan B worked. He and Becky made it to Colorado Springs after all. No idea what happens now, but at least they're all together.

Thank god.

* * *

"Colonel O'Neill, are you serious? You want to read your brother into the Stargate program now?"

"Don't see why not, sir. Even the civilians upstairs will find out about it soon enough. Plus I think he'll be useful."

Hammond leans back in his chair, steeples his fingers. "You may be right. His unique skills could come in handy with the contingency plan."

Jack raises an eyebrow. "You've heard of him?"

Hammond smiles. "Don't tell your brother, but I've known Peter Thornton since we both served in Vietnam. Played a lot of golf together between meetings over the years, whenever we visited Washington at the same time. You may or may not be surprised to know this, but MacGyver's got quite the reputation in the intelligence community, for doing what he does without using guns. In fact, we've been holding on to a copy of his dossier for a while now, in case we needed his unusual brand of problem-solving in the program."

"I understand." No, he's not surprised, all things considered. Not really.

"And you want to read in your niece as well. Rebecca, is it?"

"Yes, sir. She's a linguist, a really good one. Also with high-level security clearance at the Phoenix Foundation, for her past dilligence and discretion. Thought she might be able to help Daniel out."

"I remember Pete mentioning her now. Quite the helper when she was younger. Very well, Colonel. You have my permission."

"Thank you, General."

Now for the hard part. Breaking the news to his skeptical brother that aliens really do exist.

Easier said than done.

* * *

_Buried alive, never again to see the light of day. Cold, seeping into the very bones. Pain. So much pain..._

She screams.

"Hush, now," a woman's voice, soft and soothing. "Take it easy. It's okay." Gentle hands on her hair, smoothing away her fears.

"Mom?" she murmurs, only half awake.

"Sorry, honey. She's not here. But you're safe now, you can relax. I've got you."

She can't keep her eyes open. Not that she wants to, particularly. "Tell me what to do," she mumbles.

"Rest easy. Sleep."

She does.

* * *

"It's not a coma," Janet insists the next day. "More like an extended sleep so she can get the rest her body desperately needs. Same as anyone else who's been through a lot of trauma. She'll wake herself up eventually."

Auburn hair fans out over the pillow. There's an oxygen tube in her nose. Several IVs protrude from her arms, saline drip and nutrients she needs.

So pale and quiet. The slow rise and fall of her chest and steady beeping from the monitor the only signs of life.

Jack's heart goes out to her, poor sweetheart.

His brother's not doing too well either- emotionally, anyway. But Jack's good at diversionary tactics, and he's got the perfect distraction in mind to keep Mac from losing himself in worry and self-blame.

"It's my fault," Mac gestures at Becky's unconscious form. "I should've run faster, could've gotten her out of the way in time."

"Come off it. No way you would've known that landslide was gonna happen after the tremor. Stop beating yourself up over things you can't control, huh?"

"You don't get it!" Mac finally snaps, pulling away from him. "I'm supposed to keep her safe. It's all my fault. If she never wakes up-" He stops and takes deep breaths, carefully relaxing his clenched jaw.

"Oh, for crying out loud. Take it easy, willya? Becky's a trooper. She'll wake up when she's good and ready, not before."

"He's right," Janet adds in a soothing tone. "Her vital signs are stable for now, Mac. Worrying and blaming yourself in the meantime won't help her get any better. Colonel, why don't you take your brother away for a while? We'll let you know first thing if anything happens."

"Terrific idea, doc." Jack moves his arm around his shoulder, steering him away from the bed. "I'll take you to my quarters. 'Cause not to put it too bluntly, you look like hell and you stink besides."

Mac glares at him. "Gee, thanks a lot."

"Just sayin'. You'll feel better after you've had a bite to eat and get clean, that's all."

As if on cue, Mac's stomach starts to rumble.

Jack chuckles. "C'mon, allow me to show you the epicurean delights of our commissary."

* * *

He leads Mac down an elevator, through the maze of corridors. Gray concrete and metal with pipes and safety markings, painted lines on the floor.

Military utilitarian chic, too top secret for a photo shoot in the pages of _Architectural Digest_.

Scientists and uniformed personnel either nod or salute in greeting as they pass, before doing the inevitable double-take and murmuring amongst themselves.

Jack rolls his eyes. Just peachy. He's used to being solo for so long, now he has to remember his brother's along for the ride.

Hardly anyone knows he's a twin, save for Hammond and anyone else with clearance enough to access his personnel file. Because of his past Black Ops missions he prefers to keep this side of his family life private as a precaution, to the point of even hiding family photos on team nights.

But now Mac and Becky are fully in the picture, so to speak. They're not going away any time soon.

Not that he wants them to, either.

What the hell. It's the end of the world, right? Time he made some introductions.

Not right away, though. Best to wait until Becky gets discharged, and both have some time to get acclimated.

Finally they reach his private quarters on Level 25. Rather basic all things considered but he doesn't need all that much, even with the addition of several boxes filled with stuff retrieved from the house after the quakes started for good. Still, he has the essentials: king-sized bed to accommodate his rangy frame, lone bookshelf, TV and DVD player on the dresser with gaming console and stack of _Simpsons_ episodes.

He sends Mac off to shower (the one privilege of rank he enjoys, a private bathroom); about ten minutes later the door opens to a cloud of steam. His brother steps out, infirmary garb replaced by a spare set of green BDUs, sleeves rolled up over a black long-sleeved undershirt, running a towel through unruly blonde hair before tossing it back into the bathroom.

"Better now?"

A rueful smile. "Yeah. Thanks for the threads."

"No problem." Jack opens another drawer, takes out a bottle of whiskey and two glass tumblers and sets them on the small table, pulls up a couple chairs. Pours a double shot in each glass.

Mac grimaces. "You know I still don't drink."

"After what I'm about to tell ya, you're gonna need this. Trust me." Jack lifts his glass. "Mud in your eye, as Harry would say."

"To our princess," Mac counters. "Hope she'll be okay."

"She will. Don't worry about it."

They clink glasses. The whiskey burns a path down his throat, settling his nerves.

Way too early to be drinking- on-duty, even- but for what he's about to do he needs it.

"Obvious you're not working at NORAD," Mac says after a few minutes of contemplative silence. "Way too far underground for that."

"Nope. Got another gig going on here. Super top secret. Way above your clearance at Phoenix, even."

"Huh." A pause. "So are you gonna read me in, or will you hafta kill me afterwards?"

"Depends how open your mind is these days."

Mac raises an eyebrow. "What the heck are you talking about?"

"Just my day job." And proceeds to tell him everything.

Afterwards Mac reaches for the glass and takes a big swallow, eyes wide. Jack smirks to himself.

"No way. You're foolin' with me. Gotta be."

"Nope."

Another swallow. "So. Aliens are real?"

"Yep."

"Wormhole travel to other planets, starships, weird tech?"

"Uh-huh."

"Time travel, alternate universes, the works?"

"All the clichés. Yeah."

Mac shakes his head. "Man, Becky's gonna love this. Exactly the kinda stuff she reads about."

Jack chuckles. "Ya think?"

"So why tell me this now?"

"You know the Big Quake, right?"

Mac grimaces. "Know it? Becky and I saw it happen."

Jack feels his jaw drop. "...No foolin'?"

"Nope. The earth shaking, the L.A. Basin sinking, the water crashing in on top of that..." He closes his eyes, shudders. "Every time I close my eyes I can see it happening, over and over again. Not something I'm gonna forget about for a while, you know? Becky neither."

"Must've had pretty strong gut feelings, to get away just in time before it happened. Good thing you had Plan B, huh?"

He remembers discussing it with Mac, right after the funeral fourteen years ago. Their own private contingency plan.

_Plan "B" for Becky. Keep her safe no matter what._

"Yeah. You could say. What else were we gonna do, besides? Yours is the only home we got, now." A glance around his quarters. "Such as it is. Where we gonna sleep, anyway?"

"They'll fix up something for you around here. Don't worry about it."

Mac groans. "Good, 'cause I'm wasted. Could crash for a week straight."

"At least." Jack takes a good long look at his twin. The dark circles under his eyes, the haunted expression. The restless tapping of his fingers against the glass.

If their sister Allison were alive she'd diagnose post-adrenaline crash coupled with residual shock and anxiety, or he'll eat his yo-yo.

Gotta give some latitude, though, to a guy like that. Who sees his world crashing down around him, and still has the courage to stand up and keep on going.

Not that anyone in their family- even Becky, bless her heart- ever lacked for bravery and the willingness to persevere.

He takes another sip of his drink. "Well. Everything that's been following after? Symptoms of a much bigger problem."

Mac nods. "Heard it on the radio, before the transmissions stopped. Something wrong with the planet itself. The world coming to an end."

"Sucks, doesn't it?"

"Real shame, that's for sure. All that training, know-how and knowledge at our disposal, and nothing either of us can do about it."

"Yeah." Jack frowns and stares into his glass, contemplating the amber liquid. Put that way, it is a real damn shame the two of them can't put their heads together and stop it.

Silence follows.

Finally Mac clears his throat. "So is there an escape hatch, or something? No way we're gonna get off Earth otherwise."

Jack nods. "That's exactly what the Stargate is. Got a planet picked out, room enough to accommodate everyone, even civilians. Form a brand-new settlement, somewhere else in the galaxy. Live to fight another day."

"What do you need me for, then? I assume you're reading me in so I can help, though I don't see how."

"C'mon. You know how. It's that talent you got, the way you think outside the box. You see solutions to problems before they even happen."

"Never thought of it that way before. Always assumed it was sheer luck and making the most of what's around me, mostly."

"Well whatever it is, we could sure use it in making the most of what we've got. Allocating resources, thinking ahead, alternative solutions. That sort of thing."

"I take it they don't come to you flyboys for answers, then?"

"Course not. We got real live scientists for that. Me, I just stumble around and make lame jokes."

"Figures. Always was your strong suit." Mac cocks his head, smirks a little.

Jack rolls his eyes, but decides to let him have the last word this time. He can be generous like that when it suits him, and Mac's had a hard time of it lately.

The phone rings. "O'Neill."

"Colonel?" A female voice. "Nurse Fitzpatrick in the infirmary. Just wanted to let you know your niece is waking up now, sir."

"Great. We're on our way." He hangs it up, grins at his brother. "See? Told ya."

* * *

"Dr. Fraiser, she's coming to."

Warmth. Sound. A light stabbing into her eyes.

Time to wake up.

"Becky? Becky, can you hear me?"

She grumbles an affirmative. Opens her eyes.

A petite woman in uniform's looking down at her, tucking a penlight into a pocket of her white coat. Wide-set brown eyes, auburn hair and a kind smile. "Hi, Becky. I'm Dr. Fraiser, but you can call me Janet. How are you feeling?"

"Good. I guess." She squints. Everything's a bit blurry. "Where are my glasses?"

"Right here, honey." A nurse hands them to her.

Everything comes into focus. Becky blinks at her surroundings, taking in the room, the medical equipment. Dr. Fraiser- Janet- standing nearby and the nurses bustling around them.

Two familiar men watching her anxiously from either side of the bed, leaning forward and resting their arms on the railings. Same velvet-brown eyes and rugged features. Identical green-and-black uniforms with intriguing shoulder patches.

Different hairstyles though. Which is good, otherwise she might have trouble identifying them by sight alone if Unc ever gets a serious haircut.

She smiles faintly. "I must be on some really good drugs. I'm seeing double!"

Jack smirks, shaking his head. "Yeah, she's just fine." He reaches to gently stroke her cheek. "Hey, Becky. Good to see you."

"Good to see you too, Uncle Jack."

Mac sports bruises, one bandage on his forehead and another wrapped around his left wrist, but is beaming at her nonetheless. "Hey, Beck."

"Hey, Unc. So Plan B worked, huh? How're you feeling?"

"Better now." He moves to sit beside her, tenderly pushing hair away from her forehead. "How about you?"

"Tired. Kinda floaty, too."

"I'm not surprised," Janet says. "You're on some pretty strong painkillers now, we'll start tapering off well before you're discharged in a few days' time."

"Speaking of-" Becky searches for a clock.

"About 1730. Five-thirty in the afternoon, to you guys." Jack offers helpfully.

"God, talk about sleeping in late."

"I'll say. I know you're a night-owl and really like sleeping in and all that, but this is something else."

"Oh, for crying out loud," she mutters, rolling her eyes. He's never stopped teasing her. It's a little annoying at times, though she knows that's simply how he shows affection for those he cares about.

"Sorry, Beck. Just glad you're okay." He dabs at his eyes.

"Something in the air, huh?" Mac smirks.

"Don't you start," Jack mutters, shooting him a glare.

Becky groans. Seriously? Do they really have to start bickering now over her bed?

It's official. Both of her uncles are nuts.

She opens her mouth to say just that, but weariness hits instead and she sags against the pillows. "Ughh..."

Janet steps in. "That's enough now. She's still recovering. You two should leave."

"Actually," Mac admits, rubbing his neck. "I could use some shut-eye myself."

Jack nods. "C'mon then, let's see where they've got you guys fixed up."

Just before going completely under she feels the gentle press of two pairs of lips, on cheek and forehead.

"Sleep well, sweetheart," Mac whispers in one ear.

"Glad you're here, Beck," Jack murmurs in the other. "See you tomorrow."

Glad to be here, she thinks. Safe. Warm. Loved.

Becky closes her eyes and lets the healing darkness take her away.

* * *

When Jack returns to his quarters after getting Mac settled in on Level 15, he gazes at the framed photos on the bookshelf.

One a candid team shot at a festival on P2B-608, back in the early days. Remembers the locals fascinated by the camera, the relief at not being shot at by arrows or zat guns or whatever for once.

The other a treasured photo of himself and Sara with Charlie at his son's very first softball game. All he'll allow himself to hold onto of that chapter of his life.

Digging in a box, he comes up with another frame- Becky flanked by himself and Mac, taken at the ceremony when she received her first doctorate. Wide grins, arms around each other as they mugged for the camera.

He puts it with the other pictures, making adjustments until all three are equally spaced, side by side.

Stepping back, he stares at them.

And smiles.

* * *

"Jack!" Daniel has to jog a bit to catch up to his longer strides. At last, the only time he's been able to talk to Jack in days away from briefings and offworld action.

"Hey, Danny. How's it hanging?"

"Busy. What about you? Haven't seen you much outside of missions."

Jack shrugs, a little too casual for his liking. "Here and there. Around."

"Sam says you've been visiting the infirmary a lot lately the past few days. That's the last place in the whole base you usually like to be." Daniel looks down at the floor, scuffing the toe of his boot against the concrete. "Not to pry or anything...I mean, if it was something serious you'd tell us first, right?"

"Gee Danny, I'm really touched by your concern. Didn't know you cared."

Daniel scowls. This is too hard. Why did he have to draw the short straw? "C'mon, Jack. You know what I mean. Sam, Teal'c and I...we're worried about you."

"Nothing's goin' on, I promise. Tip-top shape, you betcha. Fit as a fiddle."

"Then why are you hanging around the infirmary, if it's not about your health?"

Jack chuckles. "Sometimes you're way too curious for your own good, you know that? Keep that up and it might bite you in the rear someday."

Unbelievable. For a guy who prides himself on honesty (tempered by snark) he sure knows how to evade a direct question. "Jack..."

"Ah!" Holding up the dreaded I'm-the-Colonel-and-I've-had-enough finger, which Daniel hates. "What I do off-duty is my own business. Besides, what is it they say? If you have to ask you'll never know?"

"Fine," Daniel grumbles, crossing his arms over his chest. "Keep your damn secrets. Thought after the rogue NID stuff you were done playing spy, that's all."

Jack grins, actually patting him on the cheek. "Don't worry, Danny-boy. It's nothing like that. In fact, you got dinner plans day after tomorrow, say around 1800?"

He blinks. "Well no, I don't think so. Just the usual with you, Sam and Teal'c."

"Great. Got a couple people I want you to meet."

"Here on base?" He's confused, not an uncommon occurrence when dealing with the likes of Jack O'Neill.

"Yep. No need to dress up. Pass the word along to Sam and T, would ya? Thanks."

"Whatever," Daniel sighs, watching his friend saunter down the hallway.

Next time he'll insist that Sam do the asking.

* * *

Their assigned quarters are pretty basic- no more than two sets of beds, dressers and built-in closets, with a round table and two chairs. Communal restroom and shower facilities.

Not that much different than dorm rooms back in college, actually. Right down to their names on the door: _A. MacGyver, R. Grahme._

Except there are no windows.

Mindful of the stitches under the bandage on her left side, Becky sits back in bed and tries to lose herself in one of her books, carefully not thinking about the tons of concrete and rock overhead, ready to come crashing down at any time.

The occasional tremor under her feet isn't making it easy.

Discharged from the infirmary the previous day, with medication bottles and a printout full of advice and exercises. Which she does religiously, having picked up on the fact that whatever they do on this base, it's always fighting-fit and mission-ready. She wasn't in bad shape at all before the Big Quake, but after her recent ordeal she'll have to work hard at restoring her health, albeit slowly.

A courtesy tap on the door, then it opens a fraction. "Helloo? Anybody home?"

"I'm in here."

Jack strolls inside, hands casually stuffed into pockets, grinning in that way he does when he's got mischief planned. "Hey, Beck. What'cha doing?"

"Resting, as per Janet's orders. Why do you ask?"

He purses his lips, rocking back on his heels. "Just wanna know if you're up to taking a walk. Got something special to show you."

"Sure, but we'll have to go slow. Almost a week out from surgery, you know."

"I'll make sure we have frequent rest stops."

"Where's Mac?"

"He'll meet up with us in a bit." Holds out his hand. "C'mon."

* * *

Unbelievable. Stupendous. Fantastic.

No other words for it.

Wormhole generators. Space travel. Descendants of displaced humans on other planets. Honest-to-god aliens, both friends and foes. Weird technology. Adventure and mysteries throughout the galaxy.

And so much more.

Of course there are plenty of dangers out there- the universe isn't exactly a friendly place- but it's balanced by so many wonders at the same time.

Just like the stories she reads, only loads better 'cause it's all real.

No surprise she goes a little nuts over the whole thing. Even Mac's impressed, though he tries to hide it in front of his brother.

Jack sports a smug grin all the while, like the proverbial cat who ate the canary.

It's official. She has the coolest uncles. Ever.

But then she has to sit down so he tells her the rest, as serious as he knows how to be.

The Earth is dying, due to unexpectedly high levels of instability within the inner and outer cores. Makes a certain amount of sense, given the increasing frequency of quakes and tsunamis worldwide.

Nobody knows whether the planet will implode or explode, but fortunately they have a way out before it happens, through the Stargate. Colonizing another planet, making sure the human race has a second chance.

Little over three and a half months of preparation left, then Zero Hour.

After that, the end. And the beginning of something new.

She nods, soberly. "I understand. What can I do to help?"

* * *

After that, dinner with members of his team, designated SG-1. His work family, so to speak.

Becky recalls one late night four years ago, when Jack paid an unexpected visit. This must've been what he mentioned without really mentioning, during their informal Q&A session on the couch.

Samantha Carter is amazing. Air Force Major and Doctor of Astrophysics, Jack's 2IC on the team. Beautiful and brilliant.

"Call me Sam, please," she says with a bright grin and twinkling sapphire eyes as she offers her hand.

"Name's MacGyver."

She raises an eyebrow. "First name or last?"

"Yep."

Jack just shrugs. "Don't look at me. It's a family thing."

Equally impressive is Teal'c, from the planet Chulak. A genuine alien warrior, tall and dark-skinned and built like a linebacker. With a gold mark on his forehead and a grave, courteous manner about him.

"An honor, to meet family of O'Neill," he says in a deep voice. A solemn bow, fist to chest.

"The honor is ours," Becky replies with a bow of her own. She's always thought manners to be important, and her anthropological training's only reinforced that belief.

He gives a small, pleased nod in return.

Jack checks his watch, shaking his head. "Late again," he mutters under his breath. Must be referring to the absent member of their four-person team.

Who arrives in a hurry. "Sorry, Jack. I know I'm late, no need to rag on me about it. I was right in the middle of translating that cuneiform tablet we found on P3O-255 and-"

He stops. Stares straight at her with wide blue eyes. Mouth opening and closing silently.

She stands, her own jaw dropping.

No way. No freaking way.

It can't be him.

* * *

Unbelievable. It can't be her.

How is this even possible? What are the odds?

She swallows, pushing up her glasses with a finger. He absently repeats the gesture with his own.

"D-Daniel?"

"Becky," he breathes.

And then together, at the same time: "What are you doing here?"

The silence that follows is rich and strange.

Jack asks innocently, "So I take it you two have already met?"

"In Seattle, at a linguistics conference-" she says, her gaze never leaving Daniel's.

"-six years ago. We met in an elevator-"

"-sounds like a cliché I know, but we really did."

"She defended my theories in public from this jerk of a guy-"

"-and he defended me at a party later from advances by the same jerk- what was his name?"

"Sanderson," Daniel says, mouth curving in a wry half-smile. The guy who'd ruined his previous academic career. And inadvertently paved the way for this one.

"Oh god, yeah." She grimaces. "What a cretin. After that we just kinda banded together for the rest of the conference."

The third guy at the table- who must be another uncle, he looks almost exactly like Jack save for the hair- snaps his fingers. "Of course! This must be who you were talking about back then. The archaeologist who gave you the necklace with the hummingbird."

Daniel blinks. "You still have it?"

"Uh-huh. Had a feeling I should bring it with me when we left." Becky pulls the chain out from under her black t-shirt. "Had a feeling I should wear it today, too."

"May I?" Sam tips the pendant up for her and Teal'c to take a closer look. Gold hummingbird dancing amid silver swirls. "Northwest Native American design, right? Very nice."

Teal'c nods his agreement. "Indeed."

Daniel shrugs, self-consciously. "On impulse. Sort of a friendship gift."

"And I gave you that handmade notebook. With the raven on the cover."

He nods. "Which came in handy. I still have it, with my other journals."

"I'm glad." A shy, sweet smile.

"So what happened after that?" Sam asks, clearly charmed by this meet-cute story.

Daniel blinks at her. "What? Oh. We kept in touch. Corresponded by email for a year or so."

Becky nods. "I expected you to visit after that symposium in Denver you mentioned. Only you never showed up. It's like you disappeared completely off the face of the Earth, or something."

"...Which I kinda did for a while," he admits.

"Literally," Jack adds. "After our first gig together offworld. Five years ago."

Becky shoots him a look, as does his twin. "But that must've been not long after-"

"It was," he cuts in, and shares a glance of his own with Daniel that means _Don't tell them it was supposed to be a suicide mission._

"I stayed behind on Abdyos, the planet we found on the other side of the Stargate- they've been read in, right?" Jack nods. "There was nothing left for me on Earth, at the time. Or so I thought."

Her delicate shoulders slump. "After that I wondered about you a lot. Where you were, what you were doing. If you were at all happy. If I was ever going to see you again." Slight look of hurt in her eyes.

Oh, my.

"I'm so sorry," he says, as gently as he knows how. "I never realized-"

Jack clears his throat. "While all this is fascinating, kids, why don't we save it for another time? Dinner's getting cold and we wouldn't want to miss out on dessert, either. There's a rumor it's chocolate cake."

Becky's eyes light up. "Chocolate? Oooh, yeah."

He beams at her. "That's my girl."

* * *

The rest of dinner passes by in a blur, at least for Daniel.

Out of all the people he ever thought to meet in the SGC- at the end of the world, yet- for some reason he hadn't been expecting her.

Although in retrospect he really should've, given the trajectory of her studies at the time and how well their ideas meshed in Seattle. Though the reason why she hadn't been recruited to the program as a linguist before now eludes him.

And hadn't she mentioned her uncles, in Seattle? One a problem-solver, the other an Air Force colonel.

Jack, as it turns out. Of all people.

An amazing coincidence, in a universe full of all manner of amazing things.

Has he been given a chance to work with someone he once thought a kindred spirit?

He certainly hopes so.

* * *

_Two other stories in my Ad Astra series are referenced in this chapter: Deep at Night and The Coolest Uncles Ever. _

_Incidentally, pictures of the hummingbird pendant and the raven design on Daniel's journal can be found on my Tumblr blog, Tanista's Purple Dragon._


	7. Assistance

On the whole, people are taking the end-of-the-world thing in a surprisingly calm and civilized manner. Grateful to be someplace where they're sheltered, clothed and fed on a regular basis, even if it's underground. Patiently waiting for someone in authority downstairs to give direction when needed.

Then again, they haven't been briefed yet on the caveat of oh-and-we're-also-evacuating-everyone-soon-to-a-new-planet-through-a-wormhole thing. That should be interesting.

Becky moves along the rows of civilian refugees sheltered on Levels 5-7, one of several assistants to Janet and her crew as they check on everyone's physical and mental needs.

Not much different than what she did as a teenager, really. Volunteer work at the Challengers Club, where many street kids found receiving help marginally more acceptable from a peer than a nosy adult.

She distributes blankets and pillows. Offers water bottles and sandwiches from the small mess on Level 4, which has been dedicated exclusively to feeding the refugees. Looks after small children when parents need a break. Patiently listens to stories of the worsening conditions outside, the trials and tribulations endured to reach here.

And privately counts her blessings on having arrived here with Mac in a timely manner, despite the hardships.

For the past couple weeks Becky's been helping out around the base here and there, sort of an all-purpose assistant. Light duties, nothing too strenuous yet just enough work to make her feel as if she's contributing something to the effort.

"I really wish I could do more, though," she confides to Janet during a break.

"I understand. It's great you want to help out, but you still need to take it easy for a while. Jack always wants to get back in the game as soon as he's patched up, which is never a wise idea in my professional opinion."

"True. He's pretty impatient when it comes to recovering from injuries. Uncle Mac, too."

"I'm not surprised. Based on how patient you were in the infirmary though, you seem to be more sensible in that regard than either of them."

Becky gives a self-depreciating shrug. "I try to be. Sort of runs in the family, my mom was like that. Whenever my uncles got into trouble as kids, as the older sister she always had to pick up the pieces afterwards."

"Bet it happened all the time, knowing Jack," Janet says with a wry smile. "He keeps insisting it's Daniel's fault whenever they get into trouble offworld. Fortunately I know better."

"Somehow I'm not surprised." They share a conspiratorial chuckle.

"Talking about me, ladies?" Jack slouches against a nearby wall, arms folded, mouth turned up in a familiar smirk.

Janet offers him a serene smile. "Actually Becky was just telling me about your sister, Colonel. What brings you up here?"

"Got a permanent assignment for my niece, right up her alley. So is she cleared for duty yet, doc?"

Becky fidgets as Janet studies her, considering. "If the assignment's what I think it is, then I'd say yes. Everything looked good at her last follow-up and she's a whole lot stronger. I don't see why she can't have a full-time duty, provided she doesn't push herself too hard."

"Terrific. C'mon, Beck."

Becky blinks at the colonel and the doctor in confusion. "Um, are you guys sure? I mean, I know you still need help here, Janet. I'd be willing to stick around."

She gives her a reassuring smile and a pat on the arm. "I appreciate your concern, Becky, but we'll be fine. If need be I'll get Cassie to help, she misses talking to kids her own age."

"You could ask Mac to help too," Jack helpfully suggests, "if he can be torn away from meetings about the new settlement or swapping maintenance-related horror stories with Siler. They're becoming fast friends."

Janet cocks her head, smiling faintly. "Good idea."

"I'll pass along the word downstairs. And for the record?" he adds with a faint smirk, "it's Daniel's fault we get into trouble. Every time."

"Whatever you say, Colonel. See you both later." Janet catches Becky's eye and winks.

She returns the wink, noting for future reference the gleam in the doctor's eyes whenever Mac's name is mentioned.

Most intriguing. Wouldn't be bad to have her for an aunt someday. Not bad at all.

* * *

Down to Level 11, where with her newly-issued base ID and handprint it's easy to pass the secondary checkpoint and switch to another elevator.

The corridors on Level 18 are bustling with scientists, either working in their labs or chatting in small groups in a lounge area and along the corridors. Jack tenses a bit but she immediately relaxes, finding the eclectic atmosphere of this intellectual oasis amid military drab as familiar as that within the Foundation.

Military officers often came to call at Phoenix, seeking assistance in one classified matter or another. Never anything like this, though. Then again, this was probably even above Pete's clearance, and him Director of Operations.

Jack stops at one particular door. "Keep behind me, willya?"

"Why?"

"It's a surprise."

"For whom?"

"You'll see," he replies, tapping a set of numbers on a keypad and grasping the knob. "Hey, Danny. How's tricks?"

Daniel sighs in exasperation. Unbelievable. To think he threw Jack out only a few hours ago (with his destructive yo-yo) and here he comes barging in again, without a shred of contrition.

He really ought to change the code on the keypad, if not for the fact Jack will most likely get Sam to crack it for him anyway.

"Look. Whatever you want, turn around right now and leave. I'm not interested. Got a lot on my plate today, and as usual you're too much of a distraction."

Hand on his heart, Jack adopts an expression of affronted innocence. "Hey, I only came by to offer my help-"

An audible snort from somewhere in his direction. He reaches back, making an odd shushing motion.

Daniel frowns at the unexpected sound, though he agrees with the sentiment. "Help? The last time you were here you broke two tablets and completely upset my cataloging system. Why on earth do you think you can help me this time?"

"Because I have that one thing you really, really, _really_ need. Most of all."

Why does he have to be so infuriating? "What I need is peace and quiet so I can get this done in time. You know we've got a deadline now. I don't need-"

"An assistant?" He reaches behind him, pulls out-

Becky. Who gives a tentative smile and wave. "Um, hi."

"Jack, what is she doing here?"

"I just told you. She's your assistant. Wasn't that what you said you really needed, a few weeks ago?"

"Well, yeah. But I didn't mean-"

Her smile fades. "You don't want me here?"

"No! I mean yes. You're welcome any time. It's just that, um," he adjusts his glasses, as he always does when nervous. "With everything going on I'm afraid I can't spare much time for you, that's all."

"I get it. You don't want me around." Her shoulders slump. A tear trickles down her cheek.

"Easy now, Beck. I'm sure he didn't mean to make you cry," Jack soothes, shooting him a patented glare. "Danny, how could you?"

Daniel looks down at the floor, incapable of meeting the reproach in the eyes of his friend and teammate.

Or the despair in hers. Which shames him all the more.

He's been secretly hoping Becky would help him, so why is he pushing her away like this?

What's wrong with him? What is it about her that's making him so clumsy all of a sudden?

"I, um..." He swallows. "I'm sorry, Becky. I really am. It's just that it's a lot of hard work and you're stil recovering from surgery, so I thought-"

Jack holds up a hand. "Say no more, Danny. Janet cleared her already. She'll be okay as long as she gets a chance to rest every so often. I don't think she'll get in too much trouble among all these books and rocks and whatnot."

"Artifacts," Becky corrects him. "They're artifacts."

"There. See? She knows what she's talkin' about. Why, with any luck she might even help keep you on task," he adds with a perfectly straight face though dark eyes twinkle with humor, "so you don't get distracted reading every book in sight instead of packing them. However," giving his niece a playful nudge, "I can't guarantee that _she_ won't. Never could resist an open book, could ya Beck? Even as a little kid."

She ducks her head, rubbing the back of her neck. "Aw c'mon. Why on earth d'you have to bring that up?"

"Just sayin'. So what's it gonna be, Danny? Ya want her for an assistant or not?"

Jack's right, and he damned well knows it. He really needs one. And Becky's more than qualified, being a linguist in her own right.

She turns her gaze to him, and he finds himself melting at the hope and yearning in her eyes. There's no way he can resist.

"Sure, Becky. I mean, if you really want to."

A relieved grin lights up her face. "I do, Daniel. Thanks."

Jack beams at them. "My work here is done. I'll pass word on to the General, he'll get everything sorted with authorizations and stuff. Now, niece of mine," he adds in a mock-serious tone. "I'm placing my archaeologist under your care. You're responsible for him when we're not on missions. So make sure he remembers to sleep every now and then and actually consumes more than just coffee, take him out for regular walks, pat him on the head when he's been a good boy-"

Daniel sighs, pinching the bridge of his nose. "Seriously, Jack? You make it sound like I'm a dog or something."

"There's an idea. Maybe I oughta find you a collar and leash for missions, we might not get into trouble so often."

Becky rolls her eyes. "Oh for crying out loud, Uncle Jack. That's disgusting. Isn't there someone else you can go pester so we can get some work done?"

"See?" the colonel smirks. "Knew you'd be perfect together. I'll leave you kids to it. Don't have too much fun now, huh?"

The door closes behind him and she sighs in relief. "Sorry about that. He's always been kinda nuts."

He shrugs. "I'm used to it, believe me. He's been that way since the day we met."

"And he's been that way all my life." They share a knowing look of fond exasperation.

"Seriously, I'm glad you're here. I really do need an assistant to deal with all this," he says, gesturing around the cluttered room. "No way I can get it done before time otherwise. We've got our work cut out for us, I'm afraid."

"I don't mind. Anything I can do to help."

An awkward silence follows. They stare at each other, having no idea what to do next.

Finally Becky's mouth curves up in a sly grin. "So, Dr. Jackson. How does it feel to have your crazy theories proven right after all?"

He laughs, the tension draining out of his body. "You know, I've never really had time to think about it much? Pretty good, I guess. You want to have coffee or something before getting started?"

"No, I'm good, thanks," she replies absently, gazing wide-eyed around the room and taking in every detail. "This is an amazing collection. Are all of these artifacts from other planets?"

"Mostly. There are a lot more in storage, of course. But I keep my favorites here. For example, there's this glazed stone bowl from the Selenitic Age of the D'ni people on P4M-724. And these cuneiform tablets from a ruined temple on P3O-255- the Goa'uld must've picked up some Sumerians in Mesopotamia, probably around 4000 BCE. In fact, it's a wonder they managed to hold on to their writing system at all, since it's Goa'uld policy to prohibit literacy and..."

It's like they've picked up exactly where they left off, Daniel thinks.

Only better, as now they can work together as colleagues- even equals, perhaps- as well as friends.

* * *

Daniel can tell there's a resemblance between Becky and her uncles, now that he has a basis for comparison. Only it's subtle- the set of the eyes, a certain cocking of the eyebrows, a wry twist to the mouth. A softer touch to the rugged features overall, slightly rounder in the cheeks and chin.

She hasn't changed much, otherwise. Her petite form, maybe a touch shorter even than Janet. The blue eyes a shade lighter than his own, clear winter sky. Hair the color of burnished copper (so it _was_ her he glimpsed on the gurney that day). Her tinkling laugh, her warm, sweet smiles.

Also a dry sense of humor, tempered by slight bashfulness. A lively curiosity and piercing intelligence. A modest, quiet, and courteous nature, which he finds disarming and- ultimately- attractive.

Flash of memory, a view from doorway back in Seattle, watching her neatly sort out papers on a table. Admiring the inner strength and poise which belies her seemingly delicate appearance. The deliberate yet quick movements, reminding him of nothing more than a hummingbird. Which is what inspired him to purchase that pendant in the first place.

Six years ago. He barely remembers who he was back then. Naive certainly. Head in the clouds more often than not, rendering him more preoccupied if not absentminded. Determined to redeem his grandfather's tarnished legacy and build upon it. Possessing the absolute, arrogant, unshakable certainty his unconventional theories would be proven right someday.

Now he wonders how much he's really gained- and lost- due to that same certainty.

Greater knowledge of the universe, more rich and strange than anything ever imagined by a planetbound population. A certain prestige, albeit kept tightly under wraps. Friends and teammates he trusts, closer than family.

But what of the cost?

Without question his standing in the greater academic community, though he counts that as no great loss.

His sanity, a few times. Even his life, though temporarily.

And- yes- love.

Sarah Gardner. Smart, shrewd, passionate. Always mindful of her standing in the academic community. Who loved him once, yet failed to offer support when he needed it most.

Sha're. Sweet, gentle, endlessly patient with his fumbling to adapt to his adopted planet. Met and married by accident, literally. Forever lost to him now.

Would he ever be able to love another as deeply? Or is he destined to be alone for the rest of his life, afraid to open himself to others lest he lose them as well?

All this knowledge of other languages and cultures, and he can't even fathom the depths of his own heart.

* * *

Daniel's changed in many ways since she last saw him. Yet in other ways he hasn't.

Gone are the floppy locks, replaced by a shorter style- not military-cut, thank goodness, but flattering enough.

He moves around the lab with grace and confidence now, instead of clumsiness and uncertainty. Shoulders are broader, arms more muscular than she remembers. Both proof of how much training and field experience he's had over the years.

A certain haunted world-weariness hovers about him, she's sorry to note. More lines to his face. A touch of melancholy in his eyes every now and then.

Yet he still retains a sense of wonder at every new discovery, a fierce pride in his work. His unshakable belief that every life matters, his care and concern in doing the right thing. The joy in his voice as he regales her with descriptions of ruins and artifacts found on a multitude of planets throughout the Milky Way.

The connection between them is as strong as ever, she's sure of it.

But the possibility for romance? No. Not gonna happen.

After all, there's nothing special about her. She's too short, too ordinary. Sees the proof all the time in the mirror, for crying out loud. No way he'd find her attractive.

The best she can hope for is a good friendship, which is all she deserves.

* * *

Ancient writing is weird, Becky decides.

One day over lunch she admits she's learning Latin for fun, along with Esperanto. A pleasantly surprised Daniel suggests a crash course in Ancient, one of the alien languages they've discovered on quite a few planets. Spoken by the race of the same name who mastered all sorts of high tech and built the Stargate network, before disappearing for reasons currently unknown.

"So you can help with translating," he explains, "while I get on with setting up a catalog template for packing and relocation of every book and artifact to New Earth. Which I should've started a couple weeks ago, to be honest," he admits, slightly abashed.

The glyphs themselves have no correlation to any known Earth languages, but when converted to a Roman alphabet it sounds like medieval Latin with Greek and other stuff thrown in for kicks. And on top of that, different symbols have totally different meanings depending on how they're grouped. Or even how they're oriented- left or right, up or down.

And she thought making connections between ideograms and spoken words in Chinese was challenging.

Or even Basque, the topic of her Master's paper for the conference in Seattle. She's cherished a certain secret suspicion over the years- not one she ever made public, though- that it originated elsewhere, as essentially a language isolate with no connections to anything in the Indo-European phylum. Maybe she ought to ask Daniel if he's encountered it on any other planets yet.

Meanwhile, back to Ancient school.

"This is unlike anything I've ever seen before," Becky confesses one afternoon. "But I think I'm getting the hang of it."

Daniel smiles slightly and leans back against the desk, crossing his arms over his chest. "I'll be the judge of that. You left out one phrase. Translate it and tell me what it means."

She picks up a piece of chalk, tapping it against the blackboard. "Okay. Let's see. It says,_ 'Huy-Braesealis, astria sto pro oculo prostasía. Quinque pénte puncta energopoiísete.' _How's my pronunciation?"

"Not bad."

Becky narrows her gaze, frowning slightly in concentration. "Okay. So. Huy-Braesealis- which could be Hy-Brasil, seems out of place here as it belongs to Irish mythology but whatever...Yeah, okay. Got it."

She starts writing: _Huy-Braesealis, Star in the Eye for protection. Five points to activate._ Sets the chalk down, wiping her hands and steps back to take in the newly translated phrase, bumping into Daniel. "Sorry."

"It's alright. Are you sure that's it?"

"Yeah, I think so."

"Let me check." He picks up the chalk, contemplates her work. Lips move silently, which unaccountably sends shivers down her back, thinking of them moving down her body...

Becky gives herself a mental shake. He's a friend and colleague, for crying out loud. Entertaining lascivious notions at this point in time is definitely inadvisable.

Besides, his careful perusal is making her as nervous as an undergrad facing her toughest professor.

Which isn't a fair comparison to Daniel, easily one of the most patient and encouraging teachers she's ever had. Still, the anxiety remains.

"Well," he says at last, "It's mostly right."

"Mostly? What are you talking about? There's no way it could mean anything else, I checked it twice over."

"I'm sure you did. But you see, when grouped another way it could also mean..." He writes in smaller letters, underneath hers: _These aren't the droids you're looking for. Move along._

Her brow furrows as she stares first at Daniel, then at the blackboard. Something about that phrase is familiar, but what...?

She groans, slapping her forehead. "From _Star Wars, _right? Obi-Wan to the Stormtrooper?"

Daniel nods, grinning. "Got it in one. Not bad."

"Unbelievable," she mutters, rolling her eyes. "Obviously Uncle Jack's been a bad influence on you. Maybe next time I should just put in a quote from _Raiders of the Lost Ark_ or one of the other Indiana Jones movies at random and see if you can spot it."

"Too bad I left my bullwhip at home," he quips, eyes twinkling. "Seriously, your translation's well done. You've picked Ancient up faster than I thought you would."

The tension eases, replaced by a warm sensation in her chest at the praise. "Don't know why. It's weird, but it also makes a lot of sense to me, for some reason. So does that mean I've earned my coffee break, boss?"

He chuckles. "Sure. My treat."

* * *

One day stacks of folders appear as if by magic in Mac and Becky's quarters, a disconcerting reminder of how little privacy they truly enjoy on the base.

_Something for you guys to take a gander at,_ reads a yellow post-it affixed to the top of one pile._ Hope it doesn't give you nightmares. See me or the rest of the team if you have any questions. -Jack_

SG-1's mission reports.

Mac shakes his head over the contents as he leafs through them, mutters about an overly-curious vacuum salesman he once met and if he'd been one of those aliens in disguise.

For her part if she hadn't already seen the Stargate with her own eyes she'd consider it fiction on par with any of her favorite literary sci-fi series. Truly amazing stuff.

Nevertheless, she does have some questions. Especially for Daniel.

"So how many times have you died, exactly?"

Daniel frowns, setting his coffee cup down on the worktable. "I was afraid this would come up sooner or later. Jack gave you our mission reports, didn't he?"

"Certainly makes for fascinating bedtime reading," Becky notes dryly. "Action-packed. Hair-raising."

"Yeah, I bet. Honestly, most days I try really hard not to think about it. Wasn't fun, I can tell you that much."

"Sorry. It's just that I'm having a hard time wrapping my head around it. I mean, you look so healthy and everything. And I have a ton of questions. Did you really lose consciousness? How did you come back to life? What were you thinking when you risked your life in the first place? Did you ever stop to consider the pain you put Jack and the others through?"

He sighs in exasperation and pinches the bridge of his nose. "Look, I'm not comfortable answering your questions right now. Can't this wait for a more appropriate time?"

But it's a subject she's been curious about for a while, ever since Mac had a near-death experience of his own around the time Harry died. And since reading about Daniel's (or whatever they were) in the mission reports the questions would not leave her alone. So she presses on. "Did you see the proverbial bright light? Or an angel, at least? What did you see? Is there any sort of afterlife?"

"Becky, that's enough!" he snaps, slamming the book on the worktable. "Please stop asking, okay? I'd rather not talk about it. I mean it."

She winces at his tone, much sharper than usual. "Right. Sorry," she says, feeling a flush come to her cheeks. "I, um... Yeah. I'm really sorry."

An awkward silence follows, with neither willing to meet the other's eyes. Tension stretches between them, making her extremely uncomfortable. She hates conflict of any kind, especially when she's the one causing it.

Sometimes she's too curious for her own good. Why can't she learn when to shut up?

Yet to her horror she finds herself talking despite everything. "Look, the reason why I'm asking is that-"

A short jolt, followed by a series of strong, sharp shakes.

Earthquake!

Heart pounding, Becky's eyes widen, dart frantically around the room.

_Oh god-Oh god-Oh god_. _Not again-Not again-Not again!_

"Becky, you okay?"

She's finding it hard to breathe. Knows she needs to move but can't even lift her feet off the ground-

"Becky?"

Nowhere to run, the landslide of rock and dust and debris smothering her, leaving no way out-

"Becky, snap out of it! Let's get somewhere safe." Daniel seizes her shoulders, pulling her along with him until they reach the large office desk in the corner, doging falling objects along the way. He urges her, gently but firmly, underneath. Safest place to be as any, while the shaking continues.

Books slap against the concrete floor, pottery shatters on contact. She peeks outside at the damage, utters a quiet moan and scoots further from the opening, almost colliding with Daniel who makes a soft "oof" at the impact.

"Sorry."

"It's okay." Automatically his left arm curves around her, pulling her close. Given their heated discussion a couple minutes ago she half expects him to flinch from the contact but he doesn't.

"I'm so sorry about before. I didn't mean to bring up any unpleasant memories, really I didn't-"

A long finger against her lips. "Ssssh. I know."

The shaking continues.

Her heart speeds up with a flash of memory. The L.A. Basin sinking before her eyes, the ocean inexorably filling the absence.

Not that it could happen here. But there's this short story she remembers of a sizeable chunk of the Midwest slipping down on a heretofore minor fault line to create a third shining sea in the middle of the country...

Becky whimpers. She doesn't want to be buried alive again, with the earth covering her and the _cold _and the _pain _and the _dark _and _oh god-oh god-oh god..._

"Easy now. Relax. I'm right here. I've got you." Daniel's voice is soft. He strokes her hair, tentatively at first then with growing surety. "Everything will be alright, hummingbird."

What did he just call her? Hummingbird? Why on earth...?

Of course. The pendant.

He murmurs soothing words in other languages, patiently calming her fears. Gentle and strong at the same time.

She nestles closer against his chest, rubbing her cheek against the soft cotton of his t-shirt. Green and black, reminiscent of the journal she gave him.

He smells really nice, too. Leather and books and what Becky can only define as home.

And a heartbeat as steady and reassuring as that of her uncles.

Who cares how many times he's died, really? Or what happened to him? He's here now. Warm and alive. So alive.

The tremor finally ends but she's reluctant to break the spell. As is Daniel, judging by the sudden speculative expression on his face. He reaches out a long finger to caress hers before turning it up to meet his gaze.

God, he has the most beautiful eyes. Like the ocean. Empathetic yet intense at the same time.

What could he possibly see in hers?

"My hummingbird," he whispers, carefully cupping her cheek in one hand.

"My raven," she breathes, quivering at the flame his touch sends through her body.

He leans even closer, those full lips a mere breath away from hers-

_No_, a voice of caution whispers from within. _Not yet._

Becky pulls away, flushing. "We should probably get out from under here, huh?"

He smiles sadly, shadow of regret in his eyes. "Guess so."

They emerge from under the desk, noting the mess before them with dismay.

"No help for it," Becky sighs. "I'll see about getting a broom and dustpan from the custodial closet down the hall."

"Good idea. I'll see what's still intact. Or at least salvageable."

Cleanup takes a while. Picking up books and scattered papers. Assessing damaged artifacts, several of which are either put in a bin for a later attempt at restoration or reluctantly find their way to the wastebasket.

Becky empties the dustpan one last time and sighs. Finally the lab is back to normal, more or less. "Well, that was fun. Sure hope it doesn't happen again anytime soon, though. Otherwise there won't be much left to take with us."

He chuckles, patting her on the shoulder. "Me, too. Why don't we go see if the mess is reopened? We can even find out if there's news about the quake."

"Yeah, that sounds real good right now. And, um, Daniel?"

"Yeah?"

"You know," she begins, hoping to god she's not making things worse. "If eventually you do want to talk about your experiences or anything else, I'm more than willing to listen."

He shakes his head. "I appreciate what you're offering, Becky, I really do. But I'm not sure I ought to burden you with my problems-"

"Hey. We're friends, right?" She reaches out before he can turn away, gently clasping his arm. He's surprised, but makes no move to shake her off. "All I'm saying is, if you want to just talk, I'm here. Let me share the load. Please. It's what friends do for each other."

For a while he stares at her, considering. Then smiles faintly, giving her a tentative nod in return. "I might just take you up on that offer someday. Thanks."

"You're welcome." She meets his eyes, feeling the connection between them grow stronger with every minute. Along with a mutual attraction.

Her gut feeling is right, though. Now's not the time to act on it. Not yet, anyway.

First coffee, then back to work.

They have a deadline to meet, after all.

* * *

_Notes: _

_Bonus points awarded to whomever recognizes the reference to a certain groundbreaking, puzzle-solving computer game from the '90s._

_ My excerpt of the Ancient language is a mixture of Latin and Greek, with thanks to Google Translate. _

_Also blink-and-you'll-miss-it references to two MacGyver episodes, S06 E10 "The Visitor" and S05 E21, "Passages."_

_The short story Becky mentions is the future/alternate history "The Great Nebraska Sea" by Allan Danzig, originally printed in 1963 in the magazine Galaxy Science Fiction (viewable at the Internet Archive) and in the Armageddons anthology by Jack Dann and Gardner Dozois. A fun read, surprisingly._


	8. Be Prepared

MacGyver's never cared much for the military, despite his brother's involvement.

When his number came up for Vietnam he seriously considered slipping across the border into Canada, easy to do in a northern-tier state like Minnesota. He's always been more of a pacifist anyway, and the accident with Jesse convinced him further guns only contribute to the world's problems, not solve them.

Harry had also, however, instilled in his grandsons the importance of service towards family and country, so with great reluctance Mac accepted the draft. In the Army he managed- through raw technical talent, knowledge, and a certain amount of luck- to get assigned to bomb disposal instead of a regular combat unit.

Funny how that experience came in handy later on, in his rather atypical line of work.

For his brother's part, Jack cherished a dream since childhood to follow in their biological father's footsteps as a fighter pilot. To the point of applying for the Air Force academy using O'Neill as a last name, instead of their stepfather's.

After Harry left for Alaska a haphazard combination of punishments and rewards from Mom (when she could spare time from the coffee shop) and Allison prevailed at home, making for some very mixed signals. It came as no real surprise Jack eagerly embraced the structure and discipline the service offered. Military life suits him, even with his casual, irreverent attitude.

So here he is at the end of the world, living in quarters for civilian personnel at Jack's current posting.

Four years his brother's had this whole other life, and Mac never had an inkling. Though to be fair in the past he never told Jack about his own unusual missions for Phoenix, either.

But now that he and Becky have been welcomed in and largely healed of their injuries, they're both determined to make themselves useful.

Mac's finding plenty to keep himself occupied.

* * *

"So you actually had to create an electric arc welder in the middle of the Brazilian rain forest?"

Siler's voice is muted, his head in the guts of the mechanism he's repairing on Level 8.

Mac leans against the concrete wall. He likes hanging around with this guy, who knows his way around all kinds of machines and repair jobs. "Yeah. See, this was on an isolated farm and the irrigation pump was on its last legs 'cause the piston was busted."

"No welding equipment on site?"

"There was, but the acetylene gas for the tanks had run out. So I hooked up jumper cables from a truck to one of their generators and used a couple 50-cent coins from my pocket to make an electric arc welder. Then I welded the piston back together 'til it was good as new, or until they could replace it, anyway."

"Huh. ...Mind getting me the socket wrench?" Mac reaches into the toolbox on his right, hands it to Siler. "Thanks. Bet they were grateful."

"Yeah, I guess. Though the next day the owner and I faced a massive horde of soldier ants headed straight towards the farm, eating everything in their path. I'm talking millions of 'em. We finally saved the farm by flooding the ants away."

"By blowing up the dam?"

"Yeah. Even that was a heck of a challenge, since we first had to drive unstable dynamite up a rocky road to get there in the first place."

"Colonel O'Neill likes blowing things up too," Siler says thoughtfully. "Though usually he prefers C4 instead."

Mac grimaces. "Yeah, he would. Always liked to make a big mess of things as a kid."

The chief technician chuckles as he pulls away from the machine. "We had an infestation of bugs in the base too, not that long ago- well, sort of bugs. Nasty machines called Replicators, consuming and assimilating every piece of technology in their path. God help you if you get in their way."

Mac raises his eyebrows. "Machine insects? No foolin'?"

"Nope. Took the Colonel and his team to stop 'em before they could wreak any more havoc."

"My brother? Really?"

Siler rummages in his toolbox. "Oh, yeah. He's not like some spit-and-polish, by-the-book officers I've served under but let me tell you, he's damn good at what he does. Got lots of stories I could tell you about him and SG-1. Maybe not every little detail, but word does get around the base pretty quick. Dammit."

"What's the matter?"

"Thought I had a couple spare fuses in here. I'll have to go get some, but the storeroom's at least six levels down and my work schedule's pretty full today."

"Sorry to hear that." Mac sticks his hands in the pocket of his leather jacket, frowns and pulls out a wrapped stick of chewing gum. "Wonder how that got in there. You wanna split it?"

"Not while I'm on duty. Thanks anyway."

"No problem." Mac pops the stick into his mouth, folds the wrapping paper into a neat rectangle with the metallic side out. "Here. You might be able to bypass the fuse for a while with this, or at least until you have the time to replace it properly."

Siler examines the paper dubiously. "Sure it'll work?"

"Should have enough metal on it to act as a conductor. Couldn't hurt, right?"

After a moment of consideration Siler shrugs, reaches into the machine, affixing the wrapping paper between the wires in lieu of a replacement fuse. "Just so you know," he warns, closing the casing. "I'll try anything once but the General will have my hide if this doesn't work and the base blows up or whatever."

"I'll take full responsibility. Fire it up already."

The machine hums in contentment, everything in order. Right down to the makeshift fuse.

"Well, if that don't beat the band, as my grandma used to say," the technician says, shaking his head in amazement. "Thanks for the assist, Mac."

"My pleasure. Say," Mac nods over at the unusual machines sitting nearby. "Do you know anything about those? Don't think I've ever seen anything with that weird gray metallic sheen before."

Siler glances over his shoulder. "What, those? They're naquadah generators."

Mac raises an eyebrow. "Nock-what?"

"Naquadah. It's the most valuable mineral in the galaxy. The Stargate's made from the stuff. The Goa'uld use it for ther technology. Asgard, too."

Mac shakes his head. "Robotic bugs and alien minerals. Just when I think I'm getting used to this place I come across something even weirder."

Siler chuckles. "I know how you feel. Never a dull moment around here, that's for sure."

"So what makes this...naquadah so valuable, then?"

"Apparently it's stable enough for a lot of high-energy applications, or so Major Carter says. She's the expert around here. You oughta ask her if you're interested."

"I might just do that. Whoops," Mac catches the time on his watch. "Better get going. Time for another settlement meeting, then I'm helping with the refugees upstairs. We'll swap more stories later, okay?"

"Sure thing, Mac," Siler says with a grin as they shake hands. "Just between us? You're a lot more fun to be around than the Colonel. You've got better stories."

Mac chuckles. "My lips are sealed. See you later, Sly."

* * *

Establishing a new settlement takes a significant amount of planning and forethought, even in so short a time frame. Also a lot of just plain talking.

Every aspect's considered and debated before agreement. Buildings and housing, food allocation and production, distribution of resources, sustainability measures, waste management, power generation.

As the committee chair, Dr. Elizabeth Weir moderates the discussions with diplomacy and tact, using the same grace and aplomb as she had at the U.N. She's particularly adept at keeping egos out of the decision making, otherwise Mac's sure they'll be arguing until Zero Hour itself with very little accomplished.

In addition, Weir's encouraged a collaborative approach to problem-solving, one he approves. All sorts of ideas are welcome into the mix, no matter how odd. Mac's not sure whether it's out of desperation or merely a desire to start a self-sustaining colony in the best and most efficient manner possible.

Naturally he hopes for the latter.

One of his own ideas is already being implemented, to his surprise. All manner of items are being gathered in before outside conditions turn even worse from a variety of sources- military supply depots, the Army & Air Force Exchange, even four-person salvaging teams (much like Gate recon, a refinement suggested by Jack) scouring the supermarkets and stores of Colorado Springs and environs.

Practical things, mostly. Fruit, vegetable and herb seeds. Gardening and hand tools. Clothing and practical shoes. Foodstuffs not already picked over by scavengers. Combs and toothbrushes. Maybe even knitting needles and yarn, for all he knows. Anything that might remotely be useful, packed and immediately sent through the Gate, stored in warehouses as fast as Major Alvarez and his team can build them.

Also books. From the Air Force Academy library, the Colorado Springs Public Library system and any bookstores in between that haven't already been looted for fuel.

Fiction for entertainment, along with a ton of non-fiction. Texts in every scientific subject along with how-tos on gardening, woodworking, handicrafts and herbal remedies, among others.

Whatever's necessary for people to thrive- not merely survive- on New Earth.

The salvaging was actually one of Becky's suggestions, especially the books. He likes to get her input on ideas. She actually has several, thanks to the sci-fi stories she's read.

"They're important for a civilization," she insists one night while sitting cross-legged on her bed, translating work spread out before her (a bunch of weird-looking lines and spots to him). "We need all the help we can get, in order to avoid any dark ages for future generations. Why deprive them of the knowledge we've gained over the centuries?"

"Isn't that kinda putting the cart before the horse, Beck?" he jokes. "Seems a little soon to be thinking that far ahead."

"Never too early to plan for the future, Unc," she soberly replies. "Not if we're to have any sort of a chance."

If there's anything Becky's inherited from her mom it's the gift of anticipation. Seeing solutions to problems before they even happen.

These days he's taking her advice seriously, more so the closer it gets to Zero Hour.

She's right. They really do need all the help they can get.

* * *

"MacGyver? Can I ask you a question?" Cassandra Fraiser comes up to him after he teaches a group of kids how to do a cat's cradle and other string tricks. Hard to believe she's actually from another planet, she's so much like the other kids.

"Sure, Cassie. What is it?"

"Do you have any girlfriends?"

He blinks. Rather forward, but maybe where she's from that's normal.

"Well, no. I've had girls who were friends, but no real girlfriends." Not exactly, anyway. Whatever he had with Nikki was more on-again, off-again than anything. Never could tell where he stood with her.

"Why not?"

"Don't know, exactly. Guess I've been too busy."

"Do you like my mom?"

"Yeah. I like her a lot. She's really nice."

"You think she's pretty?"

His gaze strays to Janet. There's something about her compassion, her kindness, and her dedication that really appeals to him. Not to mention a playful sense of humor.

"Yeah, I do. Real pretty."

A wide grin spreads across Cassie's face. It's easy to see why she's considered the SGC's unofficial mascot (though Jack jokingly asserts it's really Daniel, to the archaeologist's chagrin). "Good. She likes you a lot too. She thinks you're really smart and handsome."

"She does?" For some reason it never occurred to him the interest's mutual. How about that.

"Cassie," Janet chides gently as she approaches them, "stop bothering him. Go help Sergeant White pass out those sandwiches, okay?"

"Sorry, Mom. Sorry, Mac." A glimmer of mischief in the girl's eyes tells him she's far from sorry, though. Maybe she believes she's playing matchmaker.

"Sorry about that. I've told her before it's rude to ask personal questions." Janet watches with a fond smile as her adopted daughter accepts a tray from the mess sergeant.

"It's okay," he says. "She wasn't bothering me at all. You've got a good kid there."

"Thanks." A pleasing floral scent under the antiseptics as she leans in close. "Jack and his team brought her back from Hanka- that's what her people called P8X-987," she says quietly. "The sole survivor of a civilization devastated by plague. Scared out of her mind."

"Hard to believe, she's so bright and cheerful now."

"Sam really wanted to care for her but she didn't have the time with her duties. And there's no question of anyone off base adopting her, so I volunteered."

"You're doing a really good job as her mom."

Janet flushes slightly at the praise. "They're pretty resilient if you give them enough love and reassurance. Becky must've been the same, after she lost her family."

"Yeah, which still amazes me even now. She's been quite the trooper all these years. Gotta admit I'm the one who needed the reassurance more, though."

"Jack's told me how impressed he was that you'd agreed to become her guardian back then, considering the nature of your work for the Phoenix Foundation. You must've done something right yourself."

Mac gives an offhanded shrug. "Just did my best, that's all. Guess that's all any parent can do, right? Love them no matter what, hope for the best, and trust they can take care of themselves when the time comes."

"You're right. Would you like to talk about this further over dinner? Compare notes on being adoptive parents?" Janet tilts her head up to stare at him, a speculative look in her eyes making his heart skip a beat.

She really is gorgeous, he thinks. Smart as a whip, too.

And she likes him. A lot.

He's always been wary of relationships, past experience can attest to that. Though lately he's been wondering if it's just plain fear of the unknown that makes him reluctant to take the chance.

What the heck. It's the end of the world, right? Anything can happen.

Maybe it's finally time to let go of that fear.

"Yeah," he says. "I'd really like that."

* * *

"Naquadah's a stable mineral ore, similar to quartz," Sam says. "Used in a wide variety of applications from generating limitless amounts of clean energy to very powerful weapons."

"Like atomic energy, in a way," Mac says thoughtfully, idly toying with a chunk of that same alien material. "Potential for both creation and destruction. Is it radioactive?"

"Why, no. Millions of neutrinos coming from nuclear reactions in the Sun pass through our bodies every day without ill effects. Their interaction with human tissue is next to zero. All other charged particles like electrons and protons do interact and in sufficient quantities can be quite harmful."

Mac nods. "Siler says that the Stargate and those generators on Level 8 are made of this stuff. How does that work?"

"In its refined state the naquadah in Stargates, for example, only reacts with neutrinos-"

"-Electrically neutral particles, right?"

She gives him an odd look but continues. "The naquadah converts and stores neutrino energy, effectively functioning as a superconductor."

"And since neutrinos aren't affected by the electromagnetic forces that act on electrons-"

"-They can therefore pass through great distances and even matter without noticeable effect. The energy's stored within a crystal lattice structure built into each Stargate..." She pauses, tilting her head at him curiously. "You know, you're nothing like the Colonel."

"In what way?"

"Every time I try to explain anything related to my work his eyes glaze over. You're actually interested in this."

Mac chuckles. "Yeah. Jack never had much interest in science growing up, even though he was good enough at math to get into the Air Force. I was the one who loved chemistry and engineering, enough to get a bachelor's in college."

"Really? Where at?"

"Western Tech."

"Impressive. Had you thought of getting a Ph.D.?"

"Nah. My mentor offered a fellowship, but I'd realized by that time academia just wasn't for me. I really liked the hands-on stuff but never had much patience with the mountain of paperwork that goes with it. Or the politics."

"Now that," she says dryly, "sounds a lot like the Colonel."

Mac chuckles. "Yeah, some things run in the family, I guess. So what's it like working with my brother?"

"He's a really good commander. His tactical ability's second to none and he always makes sure the mission's carried out to the best of our abilities, even when it goes off course. He looks out for everyone- not only on his team but also anyone who needs our help..." Her voice falters. "Oh. You're not asking about in the field, are you?"

"No, but I get what you're saying. He was like that growing up, too. Always took the lead, captain of the sports teams at school, that kinda thing. Me, I just wanted to stay in my workshop, do experiments and invent stuff."

Sam nods in understanding. "My brother Mark and I were like that, in a way."

"Is he here on base?"

A shadow crosses over her face. "No. He was in San Diego with his family when the Big Quake happened."

"Sorry to hear that." An awkward silence follows. "So. You like my brother?"

"Why, yes. He's not only a fine officer but a good man. I trust him with my life."

"Good. He likes you, too. A lot."

She blinks in surprise. "Oh. Well, that's good to hear. I guess."

Another silence. He's really not good with small talk, much less regarding his own family.

Best to change the subject to something they can both relate to. "I notice you're working on some kind of sensor drone over there." He gestures towards a nearby worktable, cluttered with components.

"Yeah, I am." She seems relieved. "It's an in-depth, portable long-range array for use on New Earth. The crystals and circuit boards are working within their specs, but I'm worried about the load tolerances."

"Let me have a look." Mac frowns in thought, tapping a finger against his lips as he examines the array. "Maybe add a couple more resistors to the circuit boards, and attach this wire over here instead of there."

Sam's eyes light up. "Of course! And if we relocate this crystal to that quadrant it should balance the load more efficiently." She makes the adjustments and consults a meter. "That's much better. Thanks."

"No problem. Anything else I can do to help, while I'm here?"

She flashes him a bright grin. "I got a few other projects going, if you don't mind sticking around."

"My pleasure."

* * *

"Hey, there you are! Just the guy I'm lookin' for."

Jack comes up behind Mac in the corridor, balancing a meal tray in each hand. "Here, take one," practically pushing a tray into his hands. "They're gettin' heavy."

"Jack, what's going on? Why am I carrying this?"

"Becky and Daniel didn't show up at lunch. It's up to us to make sure they don't starve to death." He sounds positively gleeful.

"Wouldn't it be easier to just pick them up and drag them with us to the mess?"

"Easier, yeah." Jack flashes a wicked grin. "But not nearly as much fun. You'll see."

Mac spares a glance at the airmen following behind. One struggling with a folding table, another with two chairs in either hand, and a third bringing up the rear with a folded blue tablecloth and basket of condiments. "Seems excessive."

"You don't know the Spacemonkey." Apparently his brother's nickname for Jackson. "Once he gets immersed in a project he rarely comes up for air. I'm doing this for the good of the team." Sounds like a conscientious leader but there's no mistaking the mischievous glint in his brother's eyes.

Balancing his tray in one hand, Jack taps out a code on the keypad and opens the door with a flourish.

Mac's been in the lab before. He still carries a fondness for archaeology in his heart and Daniel's stories are always fascinating. He's glad Becky's found a place as his assistant.

They're huddling in front of the computer, heads close together. The archaeologist nods and types while she leans over his left shoulder, murmuring in his ear and gesturing at something on the screen. Comfortable in each other's presence.

Which comes to no surprise to Mac, really. From the moment they saw each other he could tell they were kindred spirits.

"Okay, campers! Chow time!"

Without even looking away from the screen Becky sticks up her index finger in Jack's direction. "Hold on. We're almost done here."

He blinks, nonplussed by the use of his trademark gesture. "Beck..."

Daniel swivels in the chair, raises a warning eyebrow. "Jack..."

Jack narrows his eyes. "Daniel."

Becky frowns. "Seriously?"

Mac has the strangest feeling a lot more is being said. "Um, guys?"

"Mac..." Jack smirks in his direction.

"Jack..." Darn it, now he's doing it too.

Finally Daniel sighs, rubbing his forehead. "Look, we really are almost done. Why are you both here?"

"Dinner delivery," Jack replies, finally waving the airmen inside with the table and chairs. "Since you guys skipped lunch and all."

Becky glances at the clock and groans. "Oh, god. We did, didn't we? Time flies when we're having fun, I guess."

"It does, doesn't it." Daniel winks at her. She ducks her head, a slight pink tinting her cheeks.

"I couldn't call out for pizza," Jack continues, "so this is the next best thing. Hey, if you guys can't come to the meal, the meal comes to you, right?"

"Isn't that supposed to be Mohammed and the mountain?" Becky asks, a wry twist to her lips.

"Comes from _Essays_, by the English philosopher Frances Bacon," Daniel supplies. "In German, the phrase translates as '_Wenn der Berg nicht zu Mohammed kommt, wird Mohammed zum Berg gehen_'. Although there's also a Turkish version that only refers to a mountain and not Mohammed at all-"

Jack waves him silent. "Sheesh Danny, enough with the lecture already! Come and sit, both of you." The table's ready by this time in a corner of the room- tablecloth, chairs and all. He sets his tray down, motions Mac to do the same.

Becky and Daniel share a long-suffering look. "We'd better do what he says," she sighs, "otherwise we'll never hear the end of it."

"You're right." A corner of his mouth quirks up. "Remind me to tell you about a feast we attended on P2Y-724. They roasted this huge ox-like beast, and as the guests of honor we were offered a certain male part of its anatomy as a delicacy. Sam, Teal'c and I tasted it and had no problems with it, but Jack took one bite and turned a fascinating shade of red-"

"Oh for crying out loud," Jack grumbles, leaning against a desk. "Sit down already, willya? Food's getting cold."

Becky and Daniel share a glance and snicker as they comply.

Yeah, definitely kindred spirits.

* * *

"Well, that was fun," Jack says fifteen minutes later, balancing a stack of empty trays and dishes in his hands. "You wanna join the rest of us for dinner?"

"Can't, sorry. Janet invited me to eat with her tonight."

His brother's eyebrows rise almost to his hairline. "You and Janet, huh? Our very own Napoleon-in-high-heels? Well, well, well."

Mac rolls his eyes. "She's not that bad. We get on okay. Cassie, too."

"Brown-noser," Jack sniffs. "Just you wait 'til you have to suffer the doc's tender mercies after getting injured on a mission. Big honkin' needles, I'm tellin' ya."

"Maybe it's because you ignore her advice and suffer for it later on. You ain't getting any younger, you know."

"Neither are you. So tell me, when are you gonna stop using that hair dye?"

Mac rolls his eyes. "Jack..."

"Kidding. So, you and Janet, huh? That's terrific. Hafta say I was beginning to worry. A bachelor at your age, imagine."

"Like you're one to talk. How about you and Sam? Don't think I haven't noticed the way you've been making eyes at each other."

To his utter surprise Jack turns scarlet. "Don't tell anyone else, okay? I mean it."

He thinks about the surprise on Sam's face when he mentioned how much Jack likes her and hides a smile. "Sure."

He's learning a lot about his brother lately. More than he ever expected.

It's funny, but in some ways Mac understands him better now than he ever did growing up.

Guess anything's possible, at the end of the world.

* * *

_Notes: _

_References to S05 E19, "Menace" (messing with the timeline a bit, had to give Siler a good story to share with Mac, after all) and S01 E15, "Singularity." Also to S01 E06 of MacGyver, "Trumbo's World." _

_The explanation of naquadah comes from the Stargate Solutions Wiki, an invaluable writer's resource._


	9. One Small Step

Less than a month to Zero Hour. The pace is picking up at an appreciable rate.

Crates and boxes of all sizes are piling up in the corridors. Acquired alien tech and Sam's adaptations. Biological and geological samples from government and academic research labs around town, for posterity. Weapons and ammunition. Computer banks and electrical components.

More mundane items are included- furniture and linens, batteries and light bulbs, kitchen utensils and spare uniforms. Right down to the merest paperclips lingering in the bottom drawer of General Hammond's desk, which will also in turn be moved to New Earth.

Anything that can be scavenged from around the base and potentially put to use in the settlement. No detail too small to be overlooked at this point, thanks to Becky's insight and Mac's suggestions to the planning committee.

Everyone's willing to lend a hand, even Jack (despite the odd grumble about the state of his knees) and Teal'c, who stoically bears his burdens without a word of complaint.

For their part Becky and Daniel have been working round the clock as it is, cataloging artifacts and reference materials before carefully filling crates later carted off by airmen and added to the piles.

Everything patiently awaiting transfer through the Gate to New Earth.

Which she has yet to do herself, as it happens.

She's curious about Gate travel, of course. Anyone working at the base not part of the regular teams or on site at New Earth would surely have to be.

So she asks around. Sam explains Einstein-Rosen bridges and quantum entanglement. Jack compares it to a roller coaster. Master Sergeant Harriman (affectionately nicknamed Walter the Gatekeeper) in the control room shares anecdotes about entrances and- especially when SG-1's involved- dramatic exits.

Despite being armed with such knowledge the very thought continues to make Becky nervous. She has no idea why.

* * *

During one break time she decides to head down to Level 28. Just to take a closer look.

Blue-white light shimmers over personnel hefting items of all shapes and sizes through the Gate.

Keeping close to the walls Becky sidles around until she finds a clear view, a safe distance away from the action.

"Hell of a thing, ain't it," a young black Marine comments next to her. He glances down, blinks in surprise. "Oh. Pardon my language, ma'am. Thought you were someone else."

"No problem," she replies with a smile. "Incredible, isn't it? One step through and you're on another planet."

"Sure is," he replies. "Must be quite a rush."

"Perkins," a deep voice growls. "You're not supposed to be fraternizing with civilians while on duty."

"Sorry, sir," Perkins mutters, abashed.

A tow-headed man of medium height with a cold expression and almost colorless eyes scowls down at her. "I'm Lieutenant Norris. This is a restricted level. Who are you? How did you get down here?"

"I'm Dr. Grahme. I'm a linguist and work here, in the labs," she explains. His glare's really unnerving. "Just wanted to take a closer look."

"I don't believe you. You should be back upstairs with the other refugees. Perkins, help me escort her."

"With all due respect sir," Perkins protests, "I don't really think-"

"You disobeying a direct order, Corporal?" Norris grabs her arm, not gently by any means.

She struggles to free herself. "Let go of me!"

"Ease up, Lieutenant," a voice drawls behind them. "Does she really look like a threat?"

Perkins and the other Marines immediately straighten and salute, Norris a bare second behind. "Major Sheppard, sir."

"At ease." A hawkish face and short dark hair with distinctly non-regulation cowlicks, which reminds her of Mac's old mullet style back in the day. Casual, easygoing way about him. "But let go of her first, okay?"

The lieutenant does, with reluctance. She grimaces as she rubs her arm, sure a bruise is forming under her shirt.

The major's hazel eyes appraise her. "Hey, you're looking a lot better than the last time I saw you. How're you feeling?" He gives her a lazy wink as if saying, _Play along_.

"I'm good, thanks. And you?" she replies, wondering why this stranger would presume such familiarity when she's certain they've never met before.

"Never better." His smile's both playful and dangerous. Makes her wonder if it's something Air Force officers are trained to deploy when necessary, since Jack has his own version.

Norris frowns. "Major, I've never seen her here before. She can't possibly be authorized for clearance. Probably one of the civilian refugees from upstairs."

"Oh come now, Lieutenant," he chides. "With all the checkpoints and guards around you know that's not likely. I've seen her around, she works with Dr. Jackson." With a finger he tips her ID badge up into the light of the event horizon. "See? She's got clearance and everything. Now why don't we all take it easy. Or," he adds with a raised eyebrow, "should we ask Colonel O'Neill for clarification?"

Norris tenses, his eyes flicking to the badge before traveling up and down her body in a way that turns her stomach. "No, sir. Didn't notice before. Sorry, sir."

"And...?" Sheppard cocks his head towards her expectantly.

"Sorry...ma'am." No trace of genuine contrition in his eyes.

"Come on," her rescuer says, gently grasping her elbow and steering her away. "You can get a better look over here."

"Thanks."

"No problem."

Becky risks a look back. Norris is still frowning in her direction. "That guy gives me the creeps."

"Sorry about that. Things may be crazier than normal but that's no excuse for the way he was treating you. Feel like filing a complaint with his Captain?"

"No, not really. As you say, things are pretty crazy and I don't want to make a fuss." She tilts her head up to look at him. Why is it all the good-looking guys have to be so darn tall? "Um, sorry for asking, but do I know you?"

He flashes a charming smile. A twinkle of mischief in his gaze intrigues her. "In a way. I was one of the helicopter pilots when Colonel O'Neill rescued you and your other uncle after the landslide."

"Oh. Well, thanks a lot. And for rescuing me just now, too."

"No problem." Offers his hand. "Call me John."

"Becky. Nice to meet you." No spark like what she feels with Daniel, but there's a solid, friendly feeling about him nonetheless. Like her older brother Chris, maybe.

"Same here."

Sheppard slouches against the wall, crossing his arms over his chest. Becky follows suit, albeit with more uncertainty.

At length the last of the personnel and materials pass through the Gate before it reaches its time limit and automatically deactivates, leaving an empty circle. The platoon stands down with a word from Norris.

"It's something else, isn't it?" John says. "The Ancients must've been pretty remarkable, to figure out how to build a wormhole network that spans the galaxy."

"Yeah, they were," she says, thinking of the simple yet simultaneously complex nature of their language. "Have you been through yet?"

"Nope. You?"

"Not yet. Wonder what it's like."

"Not a clue. Guess we'll all find out soon enough, once the evacuations start."

"Yeah. What do you think you'll do, over there?"

"I've heard they've been developing a new kind of fighter at the Alpha site, one that can go into space. Hopefully I'll get assigned there, 'cause they really need pilots."

"I take it you can fly more than just helicopters?"

"Oh, yeah." There's that twinkle in his eyes again. "Best thing in the world. Nothing like it." He checks his watch. "Whoops, gotta go on duty soon. Nice to meet you, Becky. See you around."

"Nice to meet you too, John."

He gives her a cheeky wink and saunters off.

"New friend?" Daniel comes up behind her, hands casually in pockets.

"I think so. One of the pilots on the SAR team with Jack. He just helped me out of a tussle with that lieutenant over there," gesturing towards the platoon lined up against the opposite wall.

He frowns. "Norris. I've heard of him. Always harasses civilians like us, for some reason. Maybe I should have a word with Jack."

"I guess. There's something about him that makes my flesh crawl." She shudders. "Kinda like Sanderson, you know?"

The frown morphs into a grimace. "Yeah, I see it now. What are you doing away from the lab, anyway?"

"Taking a break. I left a note on your desk."

"I've been busy with briefings. So why here?"

She shrugs. "Wanted a closer look at the Gate. Those Ancients certainly built to last, didn't they. Considering how old it is, I mean."

He glances at the Gate, a funny half-smile on his face. "They certainly did. Let's get back to the lab, okay? We have a few more crates to finish packing this afternoon."

She's certain the colorless eyes of Lieutenant Norris are boring into her back as they leave.

Definitely gives her the creeps.

* * *

"You guys up for an outing later?" Jack asks the next day at breakfast.

Daniel peers at him over his glasses, frowning. "Thought we didn't have any regular missions planned until after Zero Hour."

"Yeah, but the General wants me to do an inspection tour of the settlement. Could use the company. Wanna come with? We'll make a picnic out of it."

Sam's eyes light up. "I do, sir. That way Mac and I can give the sensor array its first real field test."

"That's one. How about it, T? A chance to stretch those Jaffa legs of yours?"

Teal'c inclines his head. "A splendid idea."

"Great. Danny?"

"Why not? I could use a break."

"Whaddya say, Mac? Gotta take that first jaunt through the ol' orifice sometime."

She and Mac share a glance. Through the Gate. The very notion makes her heart speed up a bit, and he looks a bit startled himself.

All these months and they haven't even considered the fact they might use it one of these days.

Finally he nods. "Yeah. Okay."

"How about you, Beck? C'mon, it'll be fun," Jack coaxes gently.

Everyone's staring at her, making her more than a little nervous.

Oh, why not. Has to happen sooner or later, right? "Sure."

"Terrific!" He beams at his expanded team. "We'll meet down in the locker rooms after the briefing at 1100, get you guys fitted out. Carter, you show Becky the ropes on your side. Mac, you're with the rest of us guys. See ya then."

* * *

Becky can't stop thinking about the Gate as she and Daniel head for the lab.

According to Sam it's nothing more than a machine millions of years old, programmed to dissolve her body's molecules in the blink of an eye, sending them to reconstitute elsewhere in the galaxy.

Light-years away from everything she's ever known.

Why on earth is she so nervous? She should be ecstatic. The culmination of many a cherished daydream about exploring the universe.

"Daniel?"

"Hmm?" It's amazing he can walk and read at the same time.

"Does-" She hesitates.

"What?"

"Never mind," she sighs. "It's a dumb question, anyway."

He closes the book, leaving one finger in to mark his place. "There's no such thing as a dumb question, Becky," he says gently. "You can tell me. I won't laugh."

"Promise?"

"Promise."

"Does it hurt? Going through the Gate, I mean."

He blinks in surprise. "No. Not at all. Why do you ask?"

"I...I'm..." She bites her lip.

"You're worried, aren't you?"

"Yeah."

He smiles reassuringly. "There's nothing to be afraid of. Really."

"It's just that it scares me, a little," she confesses once they reach the lab. "I don't even know why. I mean, you guys do it all the time and you're fine. You probably don't get it, but..." She shrugs helplessly, her gaze dropping to the floor.

A gentle touch on her cheek. His gaze is warm, full of sympathy and understanding. "I do, Becky. Believe me. Facing the unknown is always frightening. The first time I went through the Gate I was scared. But more than that I wanted to know what was on the other side. I still feel that way with every mission."

"And that's why you do it? To satisfy your curiosity?"

Daniel nods. "We never truly know where the Gate takes us. Or what we'll encounter. But that's part of the reason why we go in the first place- to see what's really out there, for good or ill.

"Several times the program's been in danger of shutting down, by the hands of those afraid of the unknown as well as seeking power only for themselves. They never understood we need to be out there. We're making a difference, and we have to keep going. There's too much at stake to turn our backs now."

He speaks with such firm conviction, it's hard not to take heart. "Sounds like good enough reason for me to take that first step, then."

"It is. It may not be a friendly universe, but the wonders outweigh the dangers. I really hope I can share them with you. There's so much we can learn together."

"Together?"

"Yeah. I mean, you'll be my assistant on a permanent basis once we get settled on New Earth, right? I think we can really make a difference."

There's a focused, almost fevered quality to his gaze now, one that men rarely cast in her direction. Making her both nervous and excited at the same time.

(Is it possible he has feelings for her? If so, why?)

Becky swallows. For all her wondering about the settlement's future, she hasn't really considered her own. "I'll think about it, okay?"

"Fair enough, I guess." A hint of disappointment in his voice, making her feel more than a little guilty. "Let's get some work done before the briefing. How far along are you with translating that tablet from P5J-348?"

"I'm almost done. There are some phrases you oughta look at, they remind me of something I saw in one of your mission reports..."

Time to focus on the here and now.

It's good to work, keeps her mind off both the slight hurt in his eyes at her hesitation and the impending trip through the Gate.

For a time, anyway.

* * *

Black t-shirt, green BDU shirt and pants, black tac vest. Green broad-brimmed field hat. The black boots don't seem to add much in the way of inches to her petite height, though.

It's like she's turned into a soldier. Ironic, since she's always been more of a pacifist.

Nothing like Sam, though, suiting up behind her with easy familiarity. Exuding confidence in herself and her abilities with every movement.

No wonder Jack's in love with her, even though he can't exactly admit it in public.

Or at least not yet, anyway.

Things may change once they're on New Earth for good, or so Becky fervently hopes. Sam would make a terrific aunt.

In the meantime-

She sighs at her reflection in the mirror. "Sometimes I wish I wasn't so short. I had to roll these pants up, for crissake."

Sam grins. "Janet feels the same way, believe me. It's good to have a set of your own, if you ever come on missions with us. Here, let me relace those boots for you. Way they are now you'll be tripping over them all the time."

"Thanks." Props one foot on the bench. "But what makes you think I would? Go on missions, I mean."

She glances up, surprised. "Why, you'll be Daniel's assistant, won't you? You'll have to accompany us if he needs a hand."

"I guess so, but- " Becky shrugs. "Well, I'm not exactly trained for this. I know self-defense but I'm not used to combat."

"That's all right. We'll be looking out for you no matter what. Just like we do for each other." She expertly ties a knot. "There. Now the other one."

"Sam, can I ask you a question?"

"Sure. What is it?"

"How do you do it? I mean, I've read the mission reports. You fight some pretty powerful aliens, practically break the laws of physics, figure out alien tech and invent new stuff, blow up suns-"

A rueful chuckle. "I'm never gonna live that one down, am I?"

"Well, you gotta admit it's pretty impressive. All of it is, really. I'm in awe."

Sam smiles and ducks her head. "Tell you the truth Becky, I don't really know. All I can say is I serve in the best way I know how, with everything that's in me. Just like your uncles, or anyone else here. There you are. Now let's go."

She heads for the door, but Becky can't bring herself to move an inch. She swallows.

"Hey- you're not still nervous about going through the Gate, are you? You seemed pretty worried at breakfast."

"I still am, a little," Becky admits. "But talking to Daniel helped."

Sam nods in understanding. "He's good at that. Don't worry, you'll do just fine. Now let's pick up the drone and get to the Gateroom. The Colonel doesn't like to be kept waiting."

* * *

It looms in front of them, an empty circle some twenty feet high made of a mineral not native to Earth.

Door to Heaven (an incorrect translation of the hieroglyphics though, according to Daniel).

Gateway to the universe.

The Stargate.

Jack and the rest of the guys are waiting near the wall under the control room windows. He grins. "Love the hat, Beck. Just like Danny's." Who rolls his eyes but gives her a little wave nonetheless.

In uniform Mac's a dead ringer for his brother save for unruly blonde hair tucked under his cap, curling around the collar. He returns her tentative smile with a warmer one of his own.

Jack points to a wicker basket in Mac's hand. "See? Picnic. Got the kitchen to fix us sandwiches and everything. Let's get this show on the road." He waves up at Sgt. Harriman, who nods acknowledgement.

The Gate comes to life, the inner ring of constellation glyphs turning like an old-fashioned rotary dial. Then stops. A chevron opens and closes.

"Chevron one encoded." Walter announces on the PA.

A second spin. "Chevron two encoded."

Becky shifts restlessly on her feet, anxiety rising with every announcement.

A large, dark-skinned hand gently rests on her shoulder. She stares up into the inscrutable gaze of Teal'c. "Be brave, Becky Grahme," he intones. "The _chappa'ai_ is but a means of travel. There is nothing to fear."

"Thank you." His calm encouragement's like a splash of cold water.

Like any other means of transportation. Of course.

She can do this. Time to get a grip.

Besides, it can't be that bad if they use it all the time.

Right?

"Chevron seven encoded."

The wormhole forms a watery vortex. Punches straight towards them.

_Kawoosh._

"Whoa," Mac murmurs reverently. She swallows, reaches for his hand, squeezes. He squeezes back.

It's different, watching it from a safe distance high above in the briefing room. Though fascinating enough in its own right.

This is altogether more immediate. More personal, in a way.

The Gate's opening for them. For _her_.

The event horizon stabilizes, sunlight dancing on water. Pretty.

"Let's go, campers." Jack takes point as they advance up the ramp. Just before he slips inside the blue shimmer he turns towards her and Mac, gives an encouraging wink. "Relax, guys. Think of it as taking one giant step."

"A giant step that spans light-years," Sam adds with a grin before disappearing herself.

"Exhale right as you step through," Daniel advises behind them. "Nothing to worry about. Usually," he adds under his breath.

Becky half-turns, eyebrows raised. "Usually?"

Mac touches her arm. "C'mon, Beck. Ready?"

This is it.

She takes a deep breath, gives a short, decisive nod. "Ready."

* * *

Inhale.

Exhale, stepping through the event horizon.

One moment _here_-

(stars rushing past at the speed of more-than-light

diving through a swooping tunnel of blue

seemingly endless yet no time at all)

-Next moment _there_.

Just like that.

* * *

Emergence. Staggering down a metal ramp fitted over stone steps.

"Whoa," Mac says softly, eyes wide. "That was-"

"-Incredible," Becky finishes, likewise dazed. "So we're really on another planet?"

Jack chuckles, sharing an amused glance with Sam. "See for yourself, kiddo."

A glance back to a Gate identical to the one they just went through, Daniel and Teal'c appearing seconds before the event horizon vanishes.

It's a sizeable valley they're in, with forests and fields, river meandering through its center, mountain ranges rising in the distance on either side. Fertile and beautiful, vibrant compared to the functional, military drab they left a few seconds ago in shades of blue-green, burnt-orange and moss-green. The sun shines white in a blue-violet sky, the very air clear and clean.

Another world. Imagine that.

Brief flash from one of the distant peaks to her left catches Becky's eye. A thrill runs down her spine, though she doesn't know why.

Straight ahead a graded road leads across a broad field, gradually becomes a street flanked by prefab buildings. Major Alvarez and an aide wait patiently nearby.

"Danny, show Becky the DHD. Everyone else, with me." Jack strides forward.

She follows Daniel towards a vaguely cupcake-shaped object with a broad rim, same naquadah material as the Gate. Two concentric circles of glyphs with a red dome in the center. "DHD?"

"Dial Home Device," he explains. "This is what really controls and maintains the Stargate network."

"I thought it took a computer to do that."

"Only because the Gate at the base was separated from its DHD decades ago. Sam was on the team that jury-rigged a workaround."

"Sounds like what Uncle Mac might do," she says wryly, with a glance at her uncles chatting with Alvarez.

Daniel chuckles. "Probably. Not nearly as efficient as this of course, but it works. Remind me to tell you later about an Ancient named Orlin, who built a single-use Gate of his own in Sam's basement. You might even say he 'MacGyvered' it." He gives her a sly wink.

She can't help a snicker of her own. "Sam's something else, isn't she? I don't think I can do one tenth of what she does, even at my best."

"Don't sell yourself short," he says absently, examining the glyphs and taking notes. "You've been more help than you realize. I don't think I would've been able to get nearly as much done otherwise, certainly not the translating in addition to getting everything packed. I really appreciate it."

"You do? Oh." Unexpected compliments always make her flustered. "Um, you're welcome."

"Hey, you two!" Jack waves them over. "Quit dawdling and get over here."

"Our master's voice," Daniel quips. She chortles softly as they catch up with the others.

* * *

Major Esteban Alvarez may have cut his teeth constructing air bases in the Middle East as part of the AFCE, but here on New Earth his real talent for city planning has room to shine. The pride in his work is evident as he takes them on a tour.

"Granted, the buildings themselves aren't pretty since they're made out of prefab materials- plywood, extruded plastics, galvanized metal," he says. "But they'll do until more permanent structures can be built. At least this planet's not lacking for raw materials."

The settlement's designed with considerable input from the planning committee, Mac included. A grid pattern with wide, open streets. Hangars, warehouses and workshops congregate in one part of town while residential areas consisting of half-round Quonset huts cluster in another. Each section's further arranged around squares for a cozier neighborhood feel, as well as more efficient use of space. In the center lies the main administration complex and areas for assemblies and distribution of goods.

"Like forums in ancient Roman cities," Daniel observes.

Ever so often they see pipes sticking up in the ground, freshly dug wells ready for water pumps. "I'm also implementing some of your suggestions for alternative wastewater treatments, MacGyver," Alvarez says. "Along with other alternatives for power and other infrastructure. Trust me, I believe as firmly as you do we have to respect the environment from the very beginning. We need to think of it as a clean slate, a second chance to learn from our mistakes on Earth."

Becky silently approves. This is part of what she and Mac have been discussing every night, in conjunction with his committee meetings.

Workers in camo uniforms and hard hats greet them respectfully as they pass by, busy with their own tasks. Alvarez gives them friendly nods in turn. It's easy to see he has a good relationship with those under his command.

"An experimental farm's being set up, over to the west," he continues. "We'll be allocating spaces here and there for community gardens once the botanists and agronomists figure out what Earth crops will take to the soil."

"Where will the SGC be located?" Sam wants to know.

"At the north end of the settlement, not too far from where the Gate's located now. We'll enclose it in a hangar large enough to protect it from the elements and store the dialing computer and other related equipment, along with the armory. Also smaller related buildings, for administration and barracks and such," Alvarez explains. "You can tell Dr. Fraiser the hospital's being set up as we speak, between the SGC and the rest of the settlement."

"Gotta say I'm impressed, Major," Jack comments. "Didn't expect to see so much up already in record time."

"Thank you, sir. You might say we've had sufficient motivation, what with Zero Hour coming up and all. There's still a lot to do, but you're just in time for our latest accomplishment. Yesterday we got Major Carter's naquadah generators hooked up," with a nod to Sam, who grins in reply, "along with supplemental wind turbines and solar arrays. One of the salvaging teams found the parts for us at a manufacturing plant outside of the Springs, thanks to MacGyver's suggestion. In fact, we're ready for the inauguration of the New Earth Power Company, if you all can stick around until dusk."

"Well," Jack drawls, "the General did want a detailed progress report. You're giving us the ten-cent tour, Major. Might as well get our money's worth."

* * *

Becky leans against the grass, savoring the warmth of the sun- similar to their own, according to Sam- on her face. A light breeze playing with her hair, the soft whisper of trees.

She feels oddly at peace here. Maybe because it reminds her of home. Not Los Angeles, though- further back, in Oregon. The Willamette Valley where she grew up. Similar layout.

Good to be outside after spending months cooped up underground as well, even if it is on another planet elsewhere in the Milky Way. A fact which still kinda blows her mind.

Not to mention it's early summer here, when it's December back on Earth. Or it would be if the planet wasn't busy tearing itself apart.

They'll make something good of this new world, she's sure of it. Learning from the mistakes of the past.

She has to admit the spot Jack found for their picnic is pretty ideal- a gentle ridge overlooking the settlement, secluded fishing pond behind them near the treeline. All it needs is a cabin and dock to resemble Jack's place back in Minnesota.

"This is the life, ain't it?" Jack stretches out, tipping the brim of his cap over his eyes. "Soon as we move here I'm claiming this as our official picnicking spot. Ours alone."

"It is pretty nice," Daniel agrees. His eyes are closed and head tilted up, like a flower seeking sunlight.

"Indeed." Teal'c sits cross-legged, as if practicing his _kel'no'reem_. "Most peaceful."

"Beck? What d'you think?"

"It's great, Uncle Jack. Really pretty."

"Carter? Mac? How about you guys?"

No reply.

Jack sits up, frowns. "Anybody know where they are?"

Becky spies Sam's drone approaching behind him, Mac handling the remote control a distance away. He puts a finger to his lips and winks.

"I'm serious, guys. What happened to them? And what's that buzzing sound?"

The drone swoops down on Jack, narrowly missing his head by inches. He jumps straight up with a cry, batting at his graying hair and knocking the cap off his head in the process. He reaches for his P90- which he belatedly realizes he neglected to bring with him. "What the hell's that?"

"Heads up, Jack!" Mac laughs.

"Carter!"

"Sorry, sir," Sam says, valiantly fighting a grin. "Your brother insisted he be the first to test it."

Teal'c raises an expressive eyebrow, otherwise stoic though dark eyes hold a glint of humor.

Becky and Daniel collapse against each other, howling with laughter.

Jack scowls, jamming the cap back onto his head. "Not funny, guys."

"Oh, I thought it was hilarious," Mac says with a grin, keeping it away from his brother's grasp. He tosses it to Sam. "Works fine so far. Should we try out the sensors next?"

"Give it to me, Carter. That's an order."

"Sorry, sir. Not until after we finish with the tests. Which could take a while." Sam's eyes twinkle with mischief.

"Guess you'll have to wait your turn, huh?" Mac teases. "Think you can be patient that long?"

"Fine, whatever," he grumbles. "Have it your way." He turns to a still-sniggering Becky and Daniel. "All right you two. Stop it."

"Stop what?" she asks with a wide-eyed, innocent expression.

"Yeah, Jack," Daniel smirks. "Stop what?"

He fixes them with a glare, though his lips twitch in wry amusement. "I've got the most incorrigible team in the entire SGC, no doubt of it."

"And you wouldn't have it any other way."

He breaks into a wide grin. "Damn right I wouldn't."

* * *

Several hours later, after sharing dinner on site with Alvarez and his team. Dusk gathers, the sky deepening to plum then shading into midnight blue. Around her the sweet and intoxicating scent from flowers in the meadow drift in the evening breeze.

Stars come out. Unfamiliar constellations, the Milky Way a pale streak against the velvet darkness of space. Over the mountains to the east floats a great gleaming moon with a pale, iridescent glow, another following by only a few moments, with a pale violet luster.

And to think she got to see this because of taking one step into the unknown.

Daniel comes up beside her. "Look at the moons," he says quietly, so as not to break the spell.

"Yeah," she breathes. "Beautiful, aren't they. What a night. I'm really glad I got to come with you guys."

"So am I." He pauses. "Becky?"

"Yeah?"

"Have you thought about my offer yet? I'm sorry if I came on too strong earlier. I get that way sometimes, Jack will tell you as much. But I was under the impression you enjoyed working with me, and I really like working with you too, and..." He turns to her with such an anxious look in his eyes. "I mean- we're good, right?"

She wants to help, she really does. She enjoys his company a lot, and the work's as rewarding as what she did at Phoenix, maybe even more so. Surely together they can make a real difference.

So why so hesitant to agree earlier?

Perhaps she had to take that step into the unknown first. Which as it turns out wasn't bad at all. Downright exhilarating, even.

Much like working with Daniel.

Moreover, it feels right. Like it's meant to be.

"Yeah, we're good. And I'd like to. Be your assistant, I mean."

"Really? I was hoping you'd say that. I'm so glad." He beams at her in a rare, brilliant, genuine grin and pulls her close. The solid warmth of his body against hers makes her heart skips a beat.

"Me, too." And she is glad. She really is.

The settlement's abruptly bathed in light. Everyone cheers.

Jack turns to his team. "All right, campers. Let's dial up and go home. We'll be back soon enough."

The blue-white shimmer of the event horizon rivals the brightness of the LED streetlamps.

With confidence she steps through, no longer afraid.

* * *

_Brief mention of S05 E03, "Ascension."_

_ I've always loved Sam mentioning MacGyver right off the bat in the pilot episode, so that had to fit in somehow in this AU as well._


	10. Auld Lang Syne

_A word of caution: a section in this chapter describes an attempted sexual assault, though short and not at all graphic. Essential to the story, I'm afraid. _

* * *

One week to Zero Hour. Everything's as ready as it can possibly get, on both sides of the Gate. Hopefully at this point they're prepared enough to ensure their survival.

Mac and Becky stand shoulder to shoulder with Janet, Jack and the others behind General Hammond. He patiently talks to the gathered refugees, describing the dire situation outside of Cheyenne Mountain and the safe haven awaiting them on New Earth.

Good thing this is happening now, she thinks. While most remain grateful to be safe from the chaos outside a certain sense of cabin fever has crept in here and there, in the form of minor altercations easily broken up by a combination of base security and peer pressure.

A variety of emotions cross their faces as the General speaks. Fear and confusion, denial and concern. Yet most also respond to his words with relief, along with something they surely haven't felt in months.

A glimmer of hope.

Afterwards she and Mac spend time recounting their first trip through the Gate, describing New Earth and the settlement. Soothing fears, offering reassurances until anticipation replaces anxiety once more.

It's a good feeling, knowing she can help out in even this small fashion.

A good feeling in general, working for the SGC. Being a part of something bigger.

* * *

Two whole days to evacuate the refugees and others not deemed essential for base operations to New Earth.

Administrative personnel among the first to leave, ready to assist Major Alvarez and his team in processing the new arrivals. Dr. Giovanni and other scientists have already relocated as well, ready to teach the settlers everything they need to know about the new world.

Refugees are escorted in small orderly groups past the checkpoint and taken down directly to Level 28. Even after accepting the General's assurances of their safety many are understandably nervous yet no one turns around to flee, which Becky takes as a good sign.

She and Daniel stand in the control room, watching people move in a steady stream up the ramp. Parents carrying young children or holding their hands, others being assisted by Corporal Perkins and other Marines. Norris standing to one side, glowering at all and sundry after Hammond reprimanded him when Jack relayed Daniel's concerns.

She's gotten to know so many people over the past few months around the base, or at least made their acquaintance. Good people. Kind, decent.

The latest group disappears into the event horizon, and an inexplicable wave of sadness threatens to overwhelm her, as if she'll never see them again. Which is ridiculous, considering Zero Hour's less than a week away.

The sadness remains though. She instinctively reaches out to Daniel. Seeking comfort, or at the very least a sense of connection.

His larger hand grasps her smaller one, long fingers wrapping around to give a light, reassuring squeeze. She's just about to pull her hand back when his fingertips brush against hers, stilling her movement. Carefully turning her hand towards him, trailing butterfly-light patterns across her palm with his thumb then lightly sweeping over the pulse point at her wrist.

Awareness of her surroundings fades to just the joining of their hands. The flame running through her body at his touch.

Becky closes her eyes, savoring the casual intimacy of the moment.

Eventually the Gate shuts off. Walter and other technicians begin their usual post-activation inspections and adjustments.

Jack bounds into the room. "There you two are. C'mon upstairs with me kids, we've got a briefing."

The spell broken, her hand reluctantly slips out of Daniel's grasp. Though not without one last teasing, almost playful caress on his part. She raises an eyebrow at him and he winks.

She follows him up the stairs, faintly bewildered.

* * *

Life under Cheyenne Mountain used to be about saving the world. Now all that matters is saving whatever they have and transporting it to New Earth. Where the work will become saving that world instead for future generations, should they survive long enough.

Daniel takes one last look around the empty lab, stripped of everything that's given his life meaning for the past several years. Artifacts and reference materials, furniture and computers. Everything carefully packed by himself and Becky then transported through the Gate, waiting to occupy the small group of Quonset huts temporarily designated as the Department of Archaeology, Linguistics and Anthropology for the New Earth SGC.

Archaeology has labels for every era. Paleolithic, Mesolithic, Neolithic. Copper, Bronze, Iron. Each one signifying the predominant tool-making material of the period.

It's an odd discipline sometimes, he has to admit. The existence of whole civilizations extrapolated from shreds of evidence and shards of meaning.

Perhaps their own era ought to be called the Plastic or Disposable Age, judging by the material crowding present-day landfills. Significant discoveries have been made in the middens of the past, after all.

Moot point in any case, as soon there won't even be an Earth remaining to be examined by future scientists. The planet's well on its way to destroying itself completely from the inside out.

Though it's not like he's out of a job by any means. Plenty of discoveries left to be made throughout the galaxy, once they get permanently settled on New Earth.

He despairs of the loss, all the same. So many mysteries and secrets forever remaining undiscovered.

Two days to Zero Hour. The end of one era, and the beginning of another at the same time. Old Earth's chapter is done. Finished.

He gives himself a mental shake. Enough brooding.

Time to leave the past in the past. Focus on the here and now.

_Keep your feet on the ground, Danny._

He flicks the light off and shuts the door one last time.

* * *

Jack reaches into the cooler for a bottle of beer, nodding thanks to the mess sergeant sitting watch nearby before taking a swallow.

Better savor it, he thinks. Might be one of the last in a long while, or at least until they start trading with other worlds who know how to produce a decent brew.

Or figure it out on their own. There must be instructions somewhere in all those books they picked up. How hard can it be, really?

Hammond's allowed discipline to be relaxed for this one night: part New Year's Eve party, part wake for the late great Planet Earth. Scientists and military, men and women alike swarm the corridors and rooms, a few sticking to their respective divisions while the majority mix and mingle freely.

Hopefully a sign of future relations to come in the new settlement.

What will his own life be like, on New Earth? Probably more of the same as pre-apocalypse: going on missions, seeking every advantage they can get over the System Lords, Replicators or any other menace the universe decides to throw at them. Only with far fewer resources to hand and the added challenge of growing and maintaining a new settlement at the same time.

Still, the human race has proved to be pretty scrappy so far, and those in the SGC- himself included- the scrappiest of all. No way in hell they're going down without a fight.

In the mess an impromptu dance floor has been set up and many are actually dancing to the music coming from the PA, courtesy of Harriman's portable CD player and extensive collection. Classic oldies mostly, plus some decent contemporary stuff.

He drains the bottle and sets it on a nearby table. With deceptively casual ease born from long years of training he scans the crowd for anything wrong.

Becky's standing against the opposite wall, a look of uncertainty on her face. "Hey, kiddo," he says as he joins her. "Enjoying yourself?"

"Not really," she says with a sigh.

"Sorry to hear that. Anyone asked you to dance yet?"

She shakes her head. "You know me, short and easy to overlook." A hint of bitterness flavors her words.

He frowns a little. Growing up she's always been socially awkward, though Mac claims she did just fine during her time as his ward, making friends and everything. He knows she's made a few on base apart from his team but even so it must be tough, given the current circumstances.

Never mind she's earned her place on the program as Daniel's official assistant, and a damn good linguist in her own right. She's still his niece.

"Hey now," he chides gently, caressing her cheek with a long finger. "Don't talk like that. I see you just fine, Beck. Anyone who deliberately overlooks you around here will have to answer to me. Count on it."

A corner of her mouth turns up in a wry smile. "Good ol' Uncle Colonel, always looking out for me."

He chuckles, bending to kiss her forehead. "You bet."

Not too far away he spies Daniel standing on the sidelines with arms loosely crossed over his chest, sporting his own uncertain look. Another classic introvert.

He catches his friend's eye and cocks his head in Becky's direction. Daniel counters with raised eyebrows. Jack nods in reply.

Their unique, team-specific form of nonverbal communication, developed over the course of many missions together.

Finally he nods acknowledgement and weaves his way through the crowd towards them. Becky's too distracted by the dancing couples to notice.

He taps her lightly on the shoulder to get her attention. "Oh. Hi, Daniel." A faint flush tints her cheeks.

"Hi. Would you like to dance?" He smiles, offers his hand.

"Oh." She blinks up at him. "Um. Sure. I mean, if that's okay with you, Uncle Jack?"

For all he plays at being the dumb colonel, Jack likes to think he's pretty perceptive. He's seen the shared glances, the way they band together, support one another. The awareness they have of each other's proximity most of the time. All of it instinctively, without realizing they're doing it.

He makes a pretty good matchmaker, if he does say so himself.

He grins, giving Daniel a wink. "Don't worry about me, Beck. You kids go have fun, that's an order."

Sam comes up alongside as they leave. "They make a really cute couple, don't they sir?"

"Yeah. They do." Jack considers his 2IC out of the corner of his eye, her bright smile and twinkling sapphire eyes.

Wonders if he ought to ask her to dance, and damn the fraternization rules.

What the hell. It's the end of the world, right? Hammond's even looking the other way tonight.

Now or never.

"Care to cut a rug, Carter?"

Sam blinks at him in surprise, a slow grin spreading across her face. "I'd like that very much, sir."

* * *

Daniel leads Becky onto the dance floor. After a few initial fumbles adjusting to each other's height they're soon swaying easily to the music. Anticipating each other, just like they do when working.

"Penny for your thoughts," he says, smiling fondly down at her. She really is pretty. Attractive, even.

"Jack and Sam make a really nice couple, don't they? We'll have to figure out how to get them together like this more often."

He smirks at the sight of his friends and teammates enjoying themselves, Sam laughing as Jack expertly twirls her around. "You're right. I think if we put our heads together we can come up with a matchmaking plan or two."

Put our heads together. Now why does that phrase evoke images of kissing those soft, full lips? He gives himself a mental shake.

"You know, you dance pretty well, for an archaeologist." She's staring at him through lowered lashes, a glint of humor in her eyes.

"You're not so bad yourself, for a linguist." He pulls her close, adding a small dip that makes her laugh, a soft tinkling sound he loves to hear. Her glasses slip down her nose and he gently pushes them back up.

"Thanks." She gratefully leans into his hand as it lingers on her cheek.

"My pleasure."

Becky's been more and more on Daniel's mind of late, not surprising since they've been working together so closely over the past few months. How they always seem to finish each other's thoughts, the excitement shared with every new discovery.

The instant rapport between them he first noticed in Seattle, which he hasn't encountered with anyone else.

He wonders if he's ready for another relationship, as it's barely been a year since losing Sha're.

Would it be dishonoring her memory, if he's falling for Becky already?

He has no idea.

* * *

"You know, I forgot just how light Jack is on his feet," Mac notes, watching his brother with amusement as he spins a laughing Sam around. "They seem to be enjoying themselves."

Janet peers over his shoulder, grinning. "Looks like they aren't the only ones."

"What're you talking about?"

The doctor points to Becky and Daniel, dancing together. She laughs as he playfully dips her. Her glasses slip down her nose as she straightens, he gently nudges them back into place with a finger. He cups her cheek and she closes her eyes, leaning into his touch.

She's wholly at ease with him, which so far as Mac knows hasn't occurred with any other man except for himself and Jack. Including the handful of boyfriends she's had in the past, not that he's ever willingly pried into her personal life.

No sense of connection, she once claimed. Or at least nothing like what she apparently has with Jackson.

Mac feels a twinge of nostalgia deep within his heart. For the baby he once cradled in his arms, the little girl in braids laughing as he swings her around in a secret meadow, the teenager standing all forlorn at a gravesite for three coffins. Now there's this vibrant young woman in her place, dancing with the man who may well capture her heart soon, if he hasn't already.

Hopefully he won't break it, or she'd be devastated.

Mac can't bear to see that happen to his princess. She deserves some happiness, after everything she's gone through since he became her guardian. Even though to this day she insists she'll never regret choosing to live with him.

"Don't worry about her and Daniel," Janet says, as if reading his mind. "They both deserve to be happy. They'll be good for each other."

"He does seem pretty taken with her already."

Janet stands up from her chair. They're pretty much eye-to-eye at this point. "Speaking of being taken with each other," with a impish glint in her wide brown eyes, "how about a dance, Mac?"

He grins. "Thought you'd never ask, doc."

He enjoys being with her. A lot. And, judging by the brilliant smile she bestows on him as he takes her in his arms, the feeling appears to be mutual.

Maybe their luck really is changing, for himself as well as his niece.

Figures it would be happening at the literal end of the world, though.

* * *

Eventually Daniel confesses to needing a break, and others are suddenly intent on having Becky for a dance partner.

Corporal Perkins, whose first name is Edward and turns out to be a pretty nice guy and a good dancer. A lively spin around the floor with Sheppard to a Johnny Cash tune. Another major named Evan Lorne also claims her for a turn.

Even Teal'c who holds her with a certain delicacy, his graceful movements belying his immense size and strength. "You dance very well," she ventures.

"As do you, Becky Grahme. If I may make an observation?"

"You may." While she finds him intriguing and he's always been quite cordial towards her in return, she's curious what he has to say.

"You and Daniel Jackson have become very close since you arrived with MacGyver."

"I guess so. I like working with him. A lot, as it happens."

"As he does you. Do you, as you Tau'ri say, have romantic feelings for each other as well?"

She blinks in surprise. Straight to the point as always. "Yeah. I...I guess I do. I enjoy his company a lot. Not sure why he'd have feelings about me, though. I'm nothing special."

"You are wrong, Becky Grahme. I have spoken to O'Neill, and to MacGyver. They have both remarked on your curiosity and thoughtfulness towards others, your bravery in the face of danger. Those are also qualities belonging to Daniel Jackson. You will do very well together as a couple."

"You really think so?"

"Indeed I do. Any offspring you produce will surely be most learned."

She stumbles, stares wide-eyed up into the Jaffa's serene features. Swears she sees an amused gleam in his eyes, a faint upward twist to his lips.

Good lord, is he actually joking with her?

"Um, yeah," she says faintly. "I...I hope so."

"As do I. Thank you for assisting me in this activity. I find it a most pleasant means of recreation."

"Me, too. Thanks for the advice."

A pleased nod. "You are welcome."

* * *

Becky's mind is still on his words as she heads for the ladies' restroom during a break, too preoccupied to notice her surroundings.

Large hands grab her from behind and shove her to the ground. Hands stinging as they slap against the concrete floor, making her wince at the impact.

One hand clamps over her right wrist, twisting her arm painfully behind her back. She attempts to cry for help but another hand covers her mouth.

"Damned civilians. Gonna teach you a lesson." Her stomach twists at the sound of the familiar voice, thickened with inebriation.

When he flips her on her back she's not surprised to see Lieutenant Norris hovering over her, colorless eyes burning into hers with hatred. Heavy breathing hot on her face as he fumbles with the buttons on her blouse, the pungent smell of cheap liquor filling her nostrils.

She grits her teeth, trying to stay calm. Panicking will only make it worse, according to her self-defense teachers back in L.A.

She squirms a bit, manages to get her arms in a position to shove him away from her chest. Screams for help with all her might.

"Shut up, brat." He sits up angrily, backhanding her several times across the face, making her cry out in pain. Then he's on her again, one of his hands pinning her wrists together as the other fumbles with her jeans.

Ordinarily she'd be no match for his Marine hand-to-hand training. Fortunately tonight he's too drunk to notice anything other than what he's doing. Time to act.

He lets go of her wrists, intent on pulling her jeans further down.

Seizing the opportunity, she folds both of her hands into a single tight fist. Lunges upright, using all the strength in her arms and upper torso to hit him in the center of his chest, forcing him off her to the floor. She scrambles to her feet.

Norris flounders briefly, then regains himself. "Why, you little-" he growls, bolting after her. Grabs her by the ankle.

She stumbles, falling backwards onto the floor.

He looms over her, pulls out a knife. "Teach you a lesson you'll never forget, brat," he growls.

He's a trained Marine, and all she's had are self-defense classes.

She knows she doesn't have a chance.

* * *

Jack stiffens at the sudden tingle down his spine.

"Something wrong, sir?" Sam looks up at him curiously.

Nearby Mac's got a similar expression of unease. "You okay, Mac?" Janet inquires.

The brothers share a glance. "Becky's in trouble," Jack says.

"Better check it out," Mac agrees.

As one they swiftly leave the room.

Sam and Janet share a look of puzzlement before following in their wake.

* * *

Daniel's thinking about heading to his room when he hears Becky's screams. Automatically he hurries in her direction.

She's sprawled on the floor, clothing in disarray. A look of fear in her eyes.

Norris towers over her, the same guy who harassed her a couple weeks ago. With a knife in his hand and features contorted in anger.

Thankful for the training sessions with Jack and Teal'c his foot shoots out, knocking the weapon out of the lieutenant's hand. Norris bellows in surprise but before he can retaliate Daniel pulls his fist back, belting him soundly in the jaw.

He staggers but remains upright. Marines have a reputation for being pretty tough, and he's no exception.

Murder in his eyes as he lunges for Daniel. "Damned four-eyes, I'll get you for that-"

Two meaty arms grab him from behind, pinning his arms to his body. "You should be grateful we are not on Chulak, Lieutenant Norris," Teal'c says. "Or I would be well within my rights to dismember you."

Norris struggles in the Jaffa's strong grasp. "Let go of me, you alien freak!"

"Easy now, Lieutenant." Jack's voice is deceptively calm though anger simmers within his narrowed gaze. "I wouldn't insult him if I were you. He's like the Hulk when he gets angry. Danny, give Becky a hand, would ya?"

Daniel kneels down beside her. She struggles to sit up, pulling up her jeans, buttoning her blouse with shaky hands. He frowns at the dark bruise against her pale cheek. "It's okay," he soothes when she tenses at his touch. "You're safe now."

She glances side to side, agitated. "Oh god, where are my glasses? What happened to them?"

He spies them to her far left and hands them over. "Here they are. Okay if I help you up?"

Becky puts her glasses on, hesitates before nodding assent. He slips an arm around, supporting her as she stands, balancing on unsteady legs. "Whoa..."

"Here Daniel, I've got her." Janet takes her out of his hands. Speaking in a soothing voice, leading her away. "Easy now. I just want to take a quick look at you, okay? Anything broken?"

Jack stares after them, jaw clenching at the sight of the bruises on Becky's face. Nods to Sam who immediately moves to her side, a protective shield against both the ongoing action and curious spectators.

After one look in the women's direction Teal'c tightens his grip on Norris even more, who squawks in protest. "Colonel, I insist you tell this...this freak to let me go! He can't treat me like this. I'm an officer in the Marine Corps, goddammit!"

Jack slowly turns to him. "Is that so," he drawls, voice even more cold and dangerous than before. "T, you heard the guy. Let him go."

"As you wish, O'Neill," dumping Norris unceremoniously on the floor. The Marine sprawls in an undignified heap before reaching for an ankle holster.

"Watch it, Jack!" Mac calls out. "He's got a gun."

Before the lieutenant can aim Jack swiftly kicks it away from his grasp and reaches for him. Grabs him by the collar of his shirt, shoving him hard against a nearby wall. "What the hell are you doing with my niece?" he demands. "Give me one good reason why I don't just shoot you right now."

"Colonel O'Neill, stand down! That's an order!" Hammond's voice is stern enough to command instant obedience.

Jack scowls but releases Norris, who slumps briefly against the wall before straightening.

No one moves an inch, pinned by the General's intense scrutiny.

"Now," Hammond says, his voice controlled although eyes flash with anger. "Just what in blue blazes is going on here?"

Becky clears her throat and steps forward, supported by Sam and Janet on either side. "General, if I may?"

He regards her injuries with a slight frown but makes no move to stop her. "Go ahead."

She glances at her uncles, who each nod encouragement. _Be brave_, Jack mouths at her.

"I was on my way out of the ladies' restroom when Lieutenant Norris assaulted me from behind. He...He..." Her voice wavering, she takes a deep breath. "He tried to undress me, force me to...He wanted to..." She turns scarlet, unable to continue.

Sam and Janet both pat her arms in support. Jack grimaces. Mac closes his eyes, swallows. Teal'c glowers at Norris.

Daniel feels a surge of sympathy for Becky. A sudden longing seizes him, to hold her in his arms, ease her suffering. Keep her forever safe from anyone wishing her harm.

Hammond raises his hand, preventing further embarrassment. "Say no more, Dr. Grahme. I understand. Thank you."

"This isn't the first time he's harassed her," Corporal Perkins blurts out, then belatedly realizes he's talking to the Base Commander. "Sir."

Norris glares at him but says nothing.

Hammond frowns. "Explain, Corporal."

"It happened a couple weeks ago when she visited the Gateroom. To take a closer look, she said. Wasn't causing any harm. He grabbed her arm, claiming she didn't belong there. Major Sheppard can attest to that."

"Very well, Corporal. Major?"

Sheppard steps forward from the gathered onlookers, nods grim assent. "He's right, sir. Norris wanted Perkins here to help escort her up to the refugees, convinced she was one of them. He didn't like it at all when I showed her ID badge to prove she belonged with us."

"Thank you, Major. Lieutenant, do you have anything to say in defense?"

Norris stiffens under Hammond's scrutiny. "This is a military base, sir. Civilians have no place here. They're always underfoot. I was teaching her a lesson!"

Jack and Mac both frown, as does Daniel. Some lesson.

Time to step forward. "General, this isn't the first time he's harassed civilians on the base. It's been going on even before the quakes started. There are others willing to give statements, if you want to hear them."

"I see. Thank you, Dr. Jackson." He nods to Major Lorne and two SFs standing by. "Escort the lieutenant to the stockade while I determine the best course of punishment."

Norris quietly fumes as he's led away, glaring at everyone but especially Becky, who shifts uncomfortably under his gaze but doesn't cower, to her credit.

Gives her the creeps, as she once said. Gives Daniel the creeps too. Just like Sanderson.

Hammond's hard expression softens as he turns to her. "Dr. Grahme," he says gently, "My sincere apologies for what happened here. Do you wish to press charges?"

"No, sir. But if I may make a suggestion for punishment all the same?"

"Go ahead."

She takes a deep breath, sets her mouth in a thin line. "Exile."

Hammond frowns slightly. "Elaborate, please."

"Send him to one of the other bases. A permanent duty, with no chance whatsoever of reassignment to New Earth."

"And why should I do that, instead of other options?"

She swallows. "Sir, we're humans, right? We should therefore be humane, even to the likes of him. So few of us left, you see. Even someone like him can be put to use."

Mac slowly nods his approval. Jack purses his lips in thought, says nothing, though the fierce glint in his dark eyes echoes Daniel's own sudden hot desire to make Norris pay dearly for harming her.

"Thank you, Dr. Grahme. I'll take your recommendation under advisement. In the meantime, do you need to go to the infirmary?"

"Apart from some bumps and bruises she's fine, sir," Janet says before she can respond. "No signs of further assault. She can come in later for an icepack for the bruise on her cheek but no other treatment is needed."

"All right. Dr. Jackson, if you'll please escort Dr. Grahme elsewhere and keep an eye on her while I make my decision?"

"Of course, General. Come on," he says, gently placing an arm around her shoulders. "Let's get out of here."

"Sanderson all over again, I swear," she grumbles as he leads her away. "Didn't I tell you he reminded me of the guy?"

"At least he's getting what he deserves. Never would've thought of exile, though."

"Me, too. Guess I kinda surprised myself." She pauses. "You seem to be making a habit out of defending me, just like in Seattle. Thanks."

Daniel smiles at the memory. The first time he'd had the courage to stand up to a bully, despite being a pacifist. "You're welcome. Sure you're okay?"

"Yeah. He only hit me, didn't do anything worse. I still have my dignity, at least." She frowns slightly as he takes her to the elevator. "Where are we going?"

"There's something I've been meaning to show you for a while," he admits, somewhat abashed. "I just now remembered you haven't seen it yet, and I really want you to."

A corner of her mouth turns up in a wry smile. "I take it you're not talking about your quarters?"

He blinks at her then relaxes. Just like Jack, to maintain a sense of humor despite everything. "Much more interesting, I promise."

* * *

Daniel leads her to a large room across the hall from the Gateroom, otherwise empty save for a large stone disc twenty feet high, mounted on a metal frame and illuminated by spotlights.

He's come here every now and then over the years, to remind himself where it all began. With Catherine Langford and the coverstone.

Her eyes widen. "Oh, wow," she breathes. "Is that what I think it is?"

He nods. "Buried with the Gate ten thousand years ago, then uncovered by Catherine's father in the 1920s. It's going to be dismantled and shipped through the Gate first thing tomorrow and it may take a while before we set it back up. I wanted you to see it before then."

"It's too bad she never made it here when the quakes started. From what you've said I would've liked her."

"I think she would've liked you, too."

"That's the address for Abdyos in the center cartouche, right? You know, I'm kinda surprised it wasn't a warning instead, considering everything you guys have gone through since."

"Me too," he admits with a rueful chuckle.

"Yeah, I-God," she mutters, wavering a bit. "Feel really weird all of a sudden."

Probably post-adrenaline crash. "Why don't we rest for a while?," he suggests, guiding her to the wall opposite the coverstone. She utters a soft groan as she slides down to the floor, her head resting against cool concrete. They share a companionable silence while contemplating the inscribed symbols.

"Daniel?" she asks after a while.

"Hmm?"

"Tell me about Abdyos, please?"

The memories remain painful, even a year after losing Sha're. He's never intended to share them with anyone. And yet he finds himself doing just that, with this young woman whose quiet nature invites the sharing of confidences.

He describes the vivid colors of desert sunrises and sunsets. The sharp, flinty smell of unrefined naquadah and the dust forever tickling his nose. The rest period in the heat of the day, the activity after the sun went down. Simple fare- oily flatbread and lizard-which-tastes-like-chicken (making her chuckle at his pathetic imitation). The light of three moons rising over the peak of the pyramid. The coolness within the temple as he studied the inscriptions on the walls.

Then to his surprise he reaches further back. The nasty rumors spread by Sanderson and the breakup with Sarah. Catherine recruiting him after the disastrous symposium in Denver and the insight that led him to discover the seventh symbol. The mission with Jack to explore the other side of the Gate. His accidental meeting with the Abdyonians, the equally accidental marriage to Sha're. The confrontation with Ra and his decision to stay. Jack appearing a year later with Sam through the Gate. The abduction of Sha're and her brother Skaara by Apophis and his joining SG-1 to search for them.

"We didn't find her until about a year ago. She was fighting Amaunet's control but it turned out to be a losing battle, even attempting to kill me herself. Teal'c got to her before she could succeed, and she died before my eyes. Everything at my disposal and I couldn't save her."

"I'm so sorry," Becky says quietly. "You must have loved her very much."

"I did," he admits with a small, sad smile. "I still miss her but I've made my peace with it."

"I can only imagine how awful it must've been for you, spending so many years searching for it to end like that. And for her. Abducted to serve as host, forced to submit-" She swallows. "As I almost was. Oh, god-" Leans forward on her knees, shaking uncontrollably.

For a few moments Daniel can only watch her, unsure what to do. He settles for placing a tentative hand on her back, rubbing in small slow circles. Her body quivers but makes no effort to reject his touch.

"It's okay," he says, keeping his voice soft and soothing. "You're fine. You're safe. It's over now."

"I know that," she gulps. "Intellectually I know that. But god, he came so close..." Tears trickle down her face.

He gathers Becky into his arms, letting her sob against his shirt.

His heart goes out to her. So strong and yet so fragile at the same time.

Smart and shrewd like Sarah, sweet and gentle like Sha're.

Yet nothing at all like either of them. And he's glad.

Daniel wondered earlier if he was falling for her. Perhaps he is.

At length the tears stop. "Here," he says, offering a handkerchief.

"Thanks."

He patiently waits while she composes herself. "Feel better?"

"A little," she admits. Removes her glasses to rub at her eyes, blinking away the last remaining tears. "I must look a fright."

"You're beautiful."

"I'm ordinary. There's nothing special about me."

"You're wrong," he insists, brushing a lock of hair away from her face, carefully avoiding the bruises. "You're brilliant, kind and caring, bringing joy to everyone around you. You're more special than you know."

She ducks her head, a flush tinting her cheeks. "Oh, I wouldn't know about that. Not compared to Sam and Janet, anyway. Or Uncle Mac's girlfriends- well, except for Deborah but then she turned out to be an assassin hired to get close in order to kill him-"

A gentle finger against her lips silences her. "You don't need to compare yourself with anyone else, Becky. You're remarkable in your own right, I've known that ever since Seattle. Trust me."

"If you say so," she says dubiously. She's an interesting paradox- generally open-minded yet skeptical when it comes to her own self-worth.

He's looking forward to convincing her otherwise.

"I do. Hey, would I lie to you?" His best wide-eyed innocent expression makes her chuckle.

Daniel reaches out to remove first her glasses then his, setting them aside. She makes no objection.

Beautiful eyes. Guileless, blue as a clear winter's sky. Gazing at him with puzzlement but no fear whatsoever.

A light touch on her face draws her near, their lips the merest breath apart. Just like when they had to hide under the desk during the tremor.

A moment of stillness, saying nothing. Simply breathing in each other.

He closes the distance, seeking her lips gently. Feeling the soft warmth of them against his own.

Just like that one kiss in Seattle. So tender, so gentle, so sweet. Only this time he craves more.

Becky utters a quiet gasp as he wraps his arms around her, pulling her even closer. Brushes her lips against his, tentatively at first then with more confidence.

His mouth opens, his tongue teasing then parting hers to savor her sweetness. A soft moan escapes her as she tastes him in turn, her arms around his neck, combing through his hair. Kissing each other openly now with less hesitancy, more passion.

Their foreheads rest against each other once they finally part. "Oh Daniel," she breathes, "after all this time. I never thought-"

The music on the PA stops. "Attention," Walter announces, "all personnel to the Gateroom. Repeat, all personnel to the Gateroom."

With reluctance Becky pulls away. "We'd better go."

"Yeah." Though he can't resist leaning in for one more sweet kiss, which she obliges.

They retrieve their glasses and stand up together, lingering. Enjoying the feel of being in each other's arms, the intensity of their connection.

"C'mon," he says, offering his hand. "Let's see what's going on next door."

"Sure." With a shy smile she places her hand in his.

* * *

It's like walking on air, even though she's standing on her own two feet miles underground.

If Becky hadn't fallen for Daniel before this, she certainly has now.

Her heart goes out to him. Going through so much- including dying a few times- in his search for his lost wife, only to lose her forever just as they're reunited.

Yet he keeps on going. Heart scarred, eyes wise.

What's even more amazing about him, he thinks she's special. Beautiful, even.

And he kissed her. How about that.

All the amazing things she's seen and heard of over the past few months and she never saw it coming.

Her lips still tingle with the memory as they stroll into the Gateroom hand in hand, joining Mac and Janet as they stand to one side of the ramp.

"You okay, Beck?" Mac asks softly, concern evident in his eyes.

She nods, accepting his gentle kiss on the top of her head. "Either of you know what this is about?"

He looks to Janet, who shrugs. "Nope. How about you, Daniel?"

"Your guess is as good as mine."

Jack joins them, with Sam and Teal'c not far behind. "Feeling better, Beck?" he asks her with a gentle touch to her shoulder.

She gives an offhanded shrug. "A little. I'm not fine with what happened, but I'll live."

"Good enough for me, kiddo." He gestures to Mac and Daniel, leaning in close. His voice is low but Becky can't resist eavesdropping. "Hammond's made his decision. Shipped Norris off to Gamma base under escort ten minutes ago. He's out of our hair now."

Mac sighs in relief. "Thank god. That guy gave me the creeps."

"Any chance he'll get back to New Earth?" Daniel wants to know.

"Nope. Permanent posting, no chance of rotation or reassignment. He's not gonna have anything more to do with Becky or the rest of us if I can help it," Jack says firmly.

"Even if he does," Mac asserts, "we'll look out for our princess."

"You bet."

"Absolutely," Daniel agrees.

The fond glance in her direction from all three makes her cheeks flush. Not that she doesn't like the attention but surely she can take care of herself if the jerk ever shows up again.

It's not like she's a kid anymore, for crying out loud.

Hammond enters the room, military personnel automatically straightening to salute.

"At ease." He steps up onto the ramp, surveying those under his command. "Ladies and gentlemen, first I'd like to commend each and every one of you on a job well done in carrying out the contingency plan. You've performed your duties to the utmost in this time of grave danger and I'm proud of the esprit de corps and willingness to work demonstrated by everyone here. Together we've made a new world ready for settlement. Congratulations."

Everyone applauds. Airmen move among the crowd, passing around paper cups full of punch.

"I trust tonight has prepared you to bid farewell to Old Earth and face the New with anticipation. At this time I'd like to ask all of you to join me in a toast." He raises his cup and everyone follows suit.

"To those who have served since the very beginning." Jack, Daniel, Sam and Teal'c along with Janet trade glances.

"And to those whose time with us has just begun." Mac pulls Becky towards him in a sideways hug. Jack grins and winks at them.

"To those we've lost in the line of duty, and to everyone outside these walls who cannot join us- friends, foes and family alike." A respectful moment of silence.

"To those who defy the odds and manage to return to us even when all hope is gone." Jack raises playful eyebrows at Daniel, who rolls his eyes.

"And to those from elsewhere who stand by us, at our best and at our worst." Teal'c acknowledges with a solemn nod.

"Because there is no SGC without every single one of you, fighting the good fight, doing your utmost to protect our home wherever it may be. Cheers."

"Hear, hear," Daniel and others murmur in response. They drain their cups.

Walter glances at the clock. "It's zero hundred hours. Happy New Year."

Silence fills the room.

Becky begins to sing, surprising even herself: "Should auld acquaintance be forgot..." Others join in until the concrete walls resound with the familiar melody of_ Auld Lang Syne._

As she shares hugs and kisses with her uncles and the rest- especially Daniel- Becky can't help feeling optimistic.

It's different than the usual vague hope things will be better in the new year, however. More like a sense that something bigger and better's on the horizon, just a step away through the Gate.

The old world is ending but a new one's about to begin. Literally anything can happen.

Even falling in love.

* * *

_Forgot to point out mentions of S03 E15 of MacGyver, "The Negotiator," the Stargate movie, Children of the Gods and S03 E10 "Forever In A Day." Just so you know.  
_


	11. Zero Hour

Shockwaves ripple upwards from the Earth's outer core, permanently destabilizing weakened layers of mantle and crust.

Unable to withstand further tectonic and seismic strain, the unstable supervolcano complex under Yellowstone National Park reaches a breaking point. Energies are released in one massive jolt, the force of the eruption reverberating through the entire length of the Rocky Mountains. Clouds of toxic ash and gases pour into an atmosphere already rendered uninhabitable over the past few months.

Accumulated tensions find their release in a devastating fashion, shaking Cheyenne Mountain to its very roots. Stone walls and floors reinforced with concrete and steel shiver and crack, raining debris down on personnel. Sparks fly as the machinery keeping air, water, temperature and everything else required to sustain life starts breaking down under the immense stress.

This is the day the world ends.

* * *

The glass panel of the star map rattles in its frame. Technicians scramble to keep computer banks from toppling over. Daniel swallows, bracing himself against a wall through the aftershock.

He's experienced the odd earthquake while working on digs, but nothing compared to this. Like another order of catastrophe altogether.

"Should I begin dialing for New Earth, sir?" Walter asks Hammond, who is standing behind him.

The General grips the back of his chair, struggling to remain in place. He grimaces, staring out the window at the quiescent Gate. "Do it. And sound the call for final evacuation as well."

Klaxons blare, lights flash as Walter makes the announcement. "Sir, what about some sort of headcount?"

Hammond frowns in thought. "No. Too many people will be passing through the Gate for an accurate assessment. Better do it on New Earth."

Within minutes people pour through the blast doors on either side, coming to an abrupt halt a safe distance from the Gate as it comes to life.

"Daniel!" Sam joins him, with Teal'c not far behind. "Have you seen the Colonel?"

"Jack was grumbling a few hours ago about being sent upstairs for some sort of last minute sweep." He frowns, cocking his head. "But now that you mention it I haven't seen him since. Becky or Mac neither. How about you?"

Sam shakes her head. "I haven't, sorry. But they should be here soon, right?" She looks to Teal'c for confirmation.

"Indeed, Major Carter." There are times Daniel wishes he shares the Jaffa's seemingly unflappable confidence. Like right now.

The wormhole engages, the event horizon holding steady. As one the personnel assembled in the Gateroom turn to anxiously look up at their CO through the window, seeking permission.

"Go now!" Hammond orders into the microphone. "That means the rest of you, too," he adds to everyone in the control room. "This is it, people. Zero Hour. Now move it!"

The exodus begins.

* * *

Jack braces himself against the walls, cursing as the elevator car sways to and fro during a particularly bad aftershock. Evidently the springs underneath the base aren't compensating anymore.

Of course getting stuck in the elevator would have to happen now. Murphy's Law has been the SGC's unofficial motto since the very beginning, after all.

(The official one is _Ad Astra_\- to the stars- but being a top-secret program it can't be used anywhere except on base. With the Gate becoming an open secret on New Earth that might change, however.)

He picks up the emergency phone. No dial tone. "Dammit."

Punches buttons in no particular order just to see what might happen. Not that he has a head for mechanical problems like Mac and Sam but it's better than doing nothing.

Naturally it doesn't work. Just his luck.

Another aftershock rattles the car. Time to get the heck outta Dodge, as Mac would say.

He reaches the latch for the emergency access panel above him without difficulty. Hauls himself up and out, the car wobbling a bit as he balances carefully on top. With dismay he notes one of the steel cables holding the elevator in place is on the verge of coming apart, before his very eyes.

Running down the length of the shaft is a ladder used for maintenance. Takes some judicious swinging- putting more strain on the fraying cable, but it can't be helped- to get close enough to make a grab for it.

A brief sense of triumph as his hand grasps a rung. He pulls himself over the rest of the way.

The cable breaks apart with a loud snap. Jack hangs onto the ladder for dear life, watching the car- followed not long after by the counterweight- drop swiftly into the darkness, missing him by mere inches. A loud crash as they land one on top of the other, way down at the far bottom of the shaft.

He swallows. Could've been him in there if he'd lingered inside, smashed flat as a pancake.

Jack grimaces at the morbid thought, gives himself a mental shake. Time to get a grip, for crying out loud. No good comes of contemplating what might've been. He's a man of action, right?

Better find a door he can force open enough as soon as possible.

As he begins his descent Jack fleetingly wishes Mac was with him, so he can distract himself from his own anxiety by taunting his brother about his fear of heights. He may be an experienced pilot but it's a hell of a long way down.

Oh, well. It'll make for an amusing story they can all laugh at over beers, once settled on New Earth.

Nice to imagine but he's heard the klaxons, and Walter's announcement. No time for woolgathering.

Now he's gotta hustle.

* * *

It's one thing to accept the fact the end of the world is near. Quite another when it actually happens.

They've been preparing for months and she can't even get herself to take her uncle's hand and run.

Cheyenne Mountain rocks to its very foundations. The klaxon's blaring. Their only way out is through the Gate.

For some reason her legs still refuse to lift. It's getting hard to breathe.

"C'mon Beck," Mac urges. "We gotta get out of here."

She wants to, she really wants to.

But she can't move a muscle. It's like she's rooted to the floor. "I...I can't."

"You can do anything if you put your mind to it. Just take my hand. I've got you."

Becky swallows, tentatively reaches out for him. Almost brushing his fingertips.

The room trembles. There's a loud creaking, groaning sound above her head. Instead of lunging forward she swiftly snatches her hand back.

Mac's eyes widen. "What the heck-"

A section of the ceiling crashes down between them, accompanied by chunks of rubble and a cloud of dust. She staggers backwards, covering her head.

The room goes dark. Blindly she takes another step behind her, back colliding smartly against a wall. She makes a soft "oof" at the impact.

"Becky! You okay?"

She opens her mouth to reply and winds up coughing from inhaling dust. "Yeah, I think so," she finally manages. "But I'm trapped, Unc."

"Don't worry, I'll get you out. Just gotta make a hole big enough for you to get through. Hang on, alright?" She can hear him scrabbling at the rubble, digging her out with bare hands if he has to.

More creaks and groans from the floor above. Her surroundings shift in a foreboding manner.

Becky takes a deep breath, struggling to quell a rising sense of panic.

It's not working. She whimpers.

Just like her nightmares. Buried alive. No escape possible.

_Oh god-Oh god-Oh god. Not again-Not again-Not again!_

A portion of stone shakes loose from the jagged edge of the ceiling, hitting her in the face. She cries out in pain, touching her cheek. Blinks in surprise at the feel of blood on her fingers.

"Beck? You sure you're okay? Heard you cry out."

The pain and Mac's voice are enough for her to shake off the panic, for now. "Yeah, I'm fine."

"I'm working on getting you out but there's a lot of stuff in the way. Just be brave and hold on, okay?"

"Okay." She takes heart from her uncle's words.

Every time the odds are stacked against them he's always saved the day, no matter what. He'll get her out. She has faith in him.

As for herself?

Becky takes a deep, shuddering breath. If ever there was a time to be brave, it's now.

Easier said than done, though.

* * *

Jack's lost track of how many levels he's passed by now with no luck in getting any doors open.

It's Zero Hour and he's in an underground elevator shaft with the mountain ready any minute now to collapse on top of him. Just peachy.

Not the way he's ever wanted to spend New Year's, that's for sure.

He sighs, resumes his steady climb down the ladder, one rung after another. No choice but to keep going; Ellen Jackson-O'Neill-MacGyver didn't raise her kids to be quitters, after all.

Ten minutes later he finds one he can barely shove open, just enough to squeeze past. With a groan he sprawls on the concrete floor long enough to catch his breath, then forces himself to stand.

About ten minutes before automatic shut-off for the Gate, according to his watch. Better get a move on.

Jack begins jogging down the corridor, towards the door to the stairwell at the other end.

* * *

Daniel pauses before the Gate, taking one last look around the room.

Everyone else is gone. Only himself, Sam, Teal'c, Walter (faithful Gatekeeper to the end), and Hammond remain.

No sign yet of Jack though, or his brother.

Or Becky, for that matter.

(Such sweet kisses they shared the other night. He craves more, even as he's beginning to despair of ever tasting her again.)

Sam comes up alongside. "Don't worry, Daniel. I'm sure they're already on the other side. Bet you the Colonel's gonna make a show of tapping his watch and asking what kept us."

He smiles faintly. "You're probably right."

But just in case he murmurs a passage from _The Spells of Coming Forth by Day _under his breath before stepping through the event horizon: "My heart is as light as a feather. There is no sin in my body. I have not spoken that which is not true knowingly, nor have I done anything with a false heart..."

For Jack, and Mac. Most of all for Becky, who out of all of them may be the most worthy of the best afterlife possible.

If worst comes to worst he'll mourn their loss tomorrow, as deeply and honestly as he knows how.

For now this is the least he can do, to speed them on their way.

* * *

The corridors are achingly empty as never before. He's gotta be the last man on Earth by now.

Or maybe not. Jack pauses at a sudden shiver tickling along his spine. It's a little wacko but due to recent events he's come to think of it as a "Spidey-sense" of sorts regarding his family, especially when they're nearby.

Nah, not possible. Surely they're on New Earth by now.

A loud crash in a nearby room. He swears he's going nuts when he hears Mac's voice crying out Becky's name. The tickle remains, though.

Damn. Now he's really gotta check it out, despite the time crunch.

When he enters his eyes widen at the gap in the ceiling above, Mac struggling to move a pile of rubble out of the way with his bare hands. "Need some help?"

His brother half turns, looking at him with startled eyes. "Jack! What the heck are you still doing here?"

"Could ask you the same question. What's going on?"

"Becky's on the other side. I'm trying to get this slab out of the way. See anything I could use as a lever?"

Jack looks around for options. He may not have his brother's talent, but knows how to think outside the box when needed.

He spies a piece of rebar and hefts it. "How about this?"

Mac nods. "Looks long enough. I'll use that chunk of concrete over there as a fulcrum." He sets the rebar in place, shoving one end under the slab. "Becky, you need to keep away for a bit, okay? We got a lever in place, but we don't want you to get hurt if anything slips."

"Who's we? I thought you and I were the only ones here." Her voice is faint, but clear.

Jack shares a look with Mac. "It's me, Beck. Do what Mac says, okay? Don't worry, we'll get ya out of there soon as we can."

"Please hurry. It's dark and cold and oh god, I can't breathe-" Her breathing quickens, probably even hyperventilating.

He shares a concerned look with Mac, who nods confirmation.

Panic attack. Probably residual PTSD, from getting caught in that landslide.

No time to panic themselves, though. "Easy, kiddo," Jack says in a soothing tone. "You've got plenty of air. Just cup your hands in front of your face like you're warming them up, okay? Nice deep breaths."

After a short while she says weakly, "Okay, I'm better now. I think."

"Good girl. You're gonna be just fine. Alright Mac, let's move this sucker." On the count of three they haul like hell on the rebar; the slab eventually shifts enough for them to move it out of the way.

Working together they quickly clear a hole big enough for Becky to climb through. Finally she emerges, covered in dust, a trickle of blood on her left cheek. They help steady her as she carefully makes her way over the pile.

When she's at the bottom she insists on a brief hug from each. "That's our brave girl," Jack murmurs, gently patting her back. "Piece of cake, right?"

"Not to sound ungrateful for the assist, Jack," Mac says, "but what the heck are you doing here?"

"Bathroom break. C'mon kids, let's blow this joint."

They hurry for the Gateroom, dodging scattered chunks of debris and burst pipes billowing steam. The blast doors are closed part way; it takes all three to heave it open.

There's nothing so beautiful as that blue-white shimmer, filling the room with a calm, unearthly glow.

"Thank god," Becky breathes. "We're gonna make it."

The entire room quivers with the force of a single powerful jolt, from floor to ceiling.

Windows shatter with the impact, already weakened by months of accumulated stress. Automatically he and Mac duck their heads, raising their arms to shield Becky and each other from the glass shards raining down upon them.

Enough. Time to get gone.

They break into a run. The ramp shudders with every footfall.

The event horizon holds steady. Promising a way out.

Seven steps to go.

Six.

Five.

Four steps.

A high-pitched hum fills the air, eerie counterpart to the deep rumble. Volume increasing with every second.

Gate overload. Damn.

Jack spins to one side, drags them off the ramp with him. Just before a shower of sparks erupt from the Gate in every direction.

The event horizon disappears.

The ground rocks. Cracks widen in the high concrete walls.

This is it. They're out of options.

At least everyone else has a chance at a fresh start on New Earth. Gotta count for something, right?

Becky coughs, takes a deep breath. Rises to her feet, wiping the blood off her face before turning to face them. "I'm glad we're together, at the end. I love you guys."

Mac swallows, fighting back tears as he pulls her close against him. Protecting her as always, to his very last breath if necessary. "Same here, princess. Love you too."

Jack wants to do the same, hold his family tight as the mountain comes crashing down around them. But he can't even muster one last quip. He settles on shoving his hands in his pockets.

His right hand closes around something, pulls out a milky-white stone with Norse runes carved in copper along the rim.

Of course. A communication stone. Gift from a little gray buddy of his, who surely owes him several favors by now. Time to collect.

The massive concrete walls begin to buckle. A groaning, creaking sound from high above, the ceiling caving in as if in slow motion.

This had better work. "Close your eyes and hold on, okay?" Curving one arm around them, he raises the stone above his head with the other and presses it, hard.

Flash of white light behind closed eyelids.

* * *

_Note: "The Spells of Coming Forth by Day" is part of the Ancient Egyptian funerary texts collectively known as The Book of the Dead. I figure that's what Daniel might be compelled to quote, despite the references to Goa'uld false gods._


	12. Witness

Becky opens her eyes, blinking away the dancing spots. Blinks again at the change of scenery.

Smooth, sleek, curvilinear. Arches everywhere- around doorways, interspersed along walls, containing panels of white lights. Circular viewport behind them displaying a starfield.

Definitely not the military-drab concrete of the SGC.

Mac releases her and staggers back, eyes wide as he takes everything in. "Whoa," he says reverently.

"You said it," she agrees, likewise stunned.

Jack sighs in relief, wiping his brow. "Whew. Talk about your close shaves, huh?"

Movement in front of them catches her eye and she swallows. "Uh, guys? We're not alone."

Beings more than a foot shorter than her regard them curiously. Exceedingly lean bodies and long arms. Skin tones in various shades of gray. Large craniums, slits for nostrils, tiny ears, small mouths parted. Slanted black eyes without pupils. No visible indication of gender.

Mac raises his hands, palms out. "Um, hi. Take us to your leader?"

Jack- of all things- just chuckles. "Hey, there. How's tricks?"

"The male Tau'ri are identical!" one alien exclaims in wonder.

"Yet different at the same time," another observes, staring up at Mac in awe. "The hair on this one is longer." He flushes under the scrutiny, automatically lifting one hand towards his shaggy locks.

"The female is shorter, with hair a different color," another says, gesturing at her with a six-fingered hand. "And wears spectacles, like the Tau'ri Daniel Jackson."

"Enough. Leave our guests alone, all of you." The onlookers part to admit another of their number, nothing distinguishing him from the others yet possessing an air of command nonetheless. "Return to your duties." They scatter.

Jack beams. "Thor, my man! Thanks for the assist."

"I am glad to have provided you and your family with a timely escape, Colonel." The diminutive alien turns to her and Mac, regally inclines his head. "Greetings. I am Thor, Supreme Commander of the Asgard Fleet. Welcome aboard the _Sleipnir."_

"Not the one named after me, huh?" Jack looks a little crestfallen.

"Of course not. The _O'Neill_-class are needed in our fight against the Replicators. This ship is of the _Beliskner_-class."

An incredulous look from Mac. "Wait a minute. A whole class of _alien starships_ is named after you?"

Jack sports a smug grin. "Yep. Pretty cool, huh?"

"The Colonel and his team have heroically provided assistance to my race on several occasions." the alien explains. "A fitting way to show our gratitude. You are MacGyver, are you not? And Dr. Rebecca Grahme," nodding to her. "A pleasure to meet you both."

"Um, likewise." The scrutiny from those opaque, unblinking eyes makes her more than a little nervous.

Not like Norris, however. Different, more speculative than hostile. Unnerving all the same.

Thor turns to Jack. "O'Neill, you should know that the mountain holding your base collapsed completely not long after you were teleported. The Stargate is no longer accessible."

"Oh, no," Becky gasps. "Everyone on New Earth must think we're dead by now. How awful."

"Do not worry, Dr. Grahme. A message of reassurance will be sent before we leave the solar system. There are some duties to attend to first, but we will embark soon."

"How long will it take for us to get to New Earth?" Mac asks.

"About a day and a half, by hyperspace. Accommodations have been prepared for you."

"Any inflight entertainment?" Jack quips.

Mac sighs, rubs the back of his neck. "Sounds good. Feel like I could crash for a week."

"Perhaps it is time for all three of you to rest," Thor suggests. He nods to another Asgard standing nearby. "Show Colonel O'Neill and his family to their quarters."

"So the mighty gods of Norse mythology are really little gray men, huh?" Mac murmurs to Jack as they follow their diminutive guide from the bridge.

"Yep."

"Aw man, just when I think it can't get any more nuts."

Jack chortles quietly, patting his brother on the back. "Trust me, you ain't seen nothing yet."

* * *

_His arms enfold her, pulling her close to his body. She melts into his tender embrace, filling her senses with the warmth and softness of his bare skin, the desire reflected in his compelling blue eyes, the intoxicating smell- natural and musky, leather, books and ancient, sun-warmed stone. Uniquely, wonderfully him. "My raven." _

_"My hummingbird." Long fingers cup her face, slowly caress her body as if examining a precious artifact by touch alone, before his mouth hungrily captures hers. She moans as he tastes her, with the same care and complete attention to detail he takes in discovering a new find. _

_Together they fall backwards onto the bed, hands and lips exploring freely. Seeking those places that send shivers through each other, stoking their shared passion to new heights. Exchanging words of love in every language they both know as their bodies move together... _

Becky lunges upright with a start, chest heaving in an effort to slow her pounding heart.

Waves of longing make her shudder and gasp. She draws her knees up and wraps her arms around herself, trying to make sense of the intense feelings flowing through her.

So real, as if Daniel was right there with her. Which is weird, as none of her previous boyfriends had ever inspired a dream so...arousing...before.

And why she's having one like that now, she has absolutely no idea. She's with her uncles on an alien starship after being beamed aboard from a collapsing mountain, for crissake.

In psychologist mode her mom might consider it an unconscious response to facing certain death. Reaffirming an act of life, even if only in her imagination.

Whatever it means, it's most definitely out of the ordinary. A phrase which could be the understatement of the century, all things considered.

The sensations finally ebb and she feels like herself again. She takes a deep breath, letting her eyes adjust to the darkened room. Considers her surroundings.

To her left an endless field of stars outside the viewport.

To her right her uncles sprawl on ersatz beds (sleeping platforms, really), their soft snores adding the only note of familiarity to this whole bizarre situation.

Their temporary quarters are otherwise silent- no beeps, no clicks, no hum of machinery or other sound effects associated with space travel in movies or TV shows. Asgard technology appears to be quiet, clean, efficient.

Not quite what any of them expected in the way of amenities, either. Sanitary facilities a trifle small for human frames, machines that clean their bodies using sonic waves. MREs or their equivalent and bottles of water from a matter converter upon request, kinda like _Star Trek_.

It's like the Big Quake knocked her and Mac out of the ordinary world, and into one straight out of science fiction. Amazing and terrifying in turns.

Sure beats the alternative, though.

By all rights Becky ought to be going back to sleep but she can't. She's used to insomnia, being a night-owl from way back.

Besides, the idea of watching over her uncles pleases her. She revels in the quiet, finding reassurance in their presence and the simple miracle of being alive.

Though if people had told her even five months ago she'd be in an honest-to-god alien spaceship (rescued, not abducted), to live out the rest of her life on another planet-

She'd have thought them absolutely nuts. No doubt about it.

A soft, almost subliminal chime. The guys shift and grumble but remain unconscious.

Another chime. She makes her way to a panel on the other side of the room, touches it. The door slides open.

An Asgard with a light-blue tone to his gray skin regards her with curiosity. "Greetings. My name is Baldur."

"I'm Becky. Nice to meet you." Automatically she offers her hand.

He takes it, six fingers briefly touching five. Gives a sort-of smile. "Nice to meet you as well. The Supreme Commander wishes to see you on the bridge."

She glances back into the room, "Um, should I wake my uncles for this?"

"No. He has requested only your presence. Please come with me."

They walk side by side through the corridors. She can't help gaping at her surroundings a bit.

"You have never been on one of our ships before?" Baldur inquires politely.

"No, I haven't. This is amazing." A thousand questions swirl in her mind but somehow none of them seem like appropriate topics of conversation. Finally she ventures, "May I ask what you do?"

"I am a scientist. My specialty is a little obscure, but interesting work nonetheless."

"What is it?"

"I study the languages of other races, Tau'ri among others."

"Oh, really? I'm a linguist too."

"Yes, the Commander told me. He thought we might have something in common. I am sorry for the loss of your homeworld. Such a diverse planet, many different ways to communicate."

"Thank you." They walk in silence for a while. "You have an interesting name. It reminds me of a story I once heard."

He cocks his head. "I like stories. Please tell me."

"There once was a Norse god named Baldur. He was generous, joyful, and courageous. Everyone adored him. Then one day he began to have ominous dreams about his death. His father Odin found out it was a true prophecy from a seeress but his mother Frigga tried to prevent it anyway, by seeking out everything in existence and making them promise never to harm her beloved son.

"Once the oaths were secured, the other gods decided to put it to the test. They threw all kinds of things at Baldur- sticks, stones, weapons of all kinds. And true enough everything bounced off and left him completely unharmed.

"Loki the trickster god sensed an opportunity for malicious mischief. In disguise, he went to Frigga and asked her if she really made everything promise to spare Baldur from harm. Everything, she confirmed- except for the mistletoe plant. It looked so small and innocent, she thought it couldn't do any harm.

"This was too good a coincidence for Loki to pass up. He located the mistletoe, bound it into an arrow, and brought it to where the gods were still having their fun. He convinced another god to throw the arrow at Baldur, who died right on the spot.

"After his funeral Hermiod- one of his brothers- volunteered to ransom him from the queen of the dead. He pleaded with her to release Baldur, telling her of the great sorrow that all living things felt in his absence. She agreed, with one condition: If all truly wept for Baldur, she would send him back. But if there was even one refusal, he would remain by her side forever.

"Upon hearing of this everything wept, with one exception- the giantess Tokk, who was later found to be Loki in disguise. Because of the refusal, Baldur was condemned to remain forever in the land of the dead."

"What a strange story," the Asgard muses. "Odin was the founder of our race, though many millennia ago. I have never heard of Frigga but I know of Hermiod. Loki as well, though I cannot imagine any of my fellow scientists willingly doing harm to another being. I confess I do not understand."

She shrugs, belatedly realizing the gesture's lost on the Asgard. "To be honest I don't either."

"Do you know other stories?"

"I do, and so does a friend of mine. I'm sure we'd be willing to share them should you ever visit New Earth."

"I would like to do that someday. Thank you for the story."

"You're welcome."

"May I consider you a friend? I enjoy your company."

She blinks in surprise. "Why, yes. I'd like that. Thank you, Baldur."

"You are welcome, Becky."

Another alien friend. How about that.

* * *

Finally they reach the bridge, full of other Asgard who murmur among themselves at her presence.

"I was under the impression your ships only needed to be run by minimal crew."

"Normally that is the case," Baldur explains, "but this is a special occasion. A planet dying is a rare opportunity for research. There is one final duty to perform, before we leave the solar system for good."

They approach the command chair. An Asgard with a more muddy complexion says to Thor in a pleading tone, "But they are genetically identical! Think of the advance this would make in our cloning research. If you would just give me permission to take samples now while they remain unconscious-"

Thor cuts him off with a curt gesture. "Out of the question, Loki. O'Neill is a valuable ally, and his family is under my protection. Do not speak of this again." He waves the scientist away.

Baldur turns to Loki inquisitively as he passes by. "Are you a trickster?"

Loki stares at him. "Am I what? You are a strange one sometimes, Baldur."

"Dr. Grahme," Thor greets her in a cordial tone. "What do you think of the _Sleipnir_?"

"It's beautiful. Unlike anything I've ever seen before. May I ask why you wanted to see just me and not my uncles?"

"Because you alone are best suited to undertake something for us."

"And what might that be?"

"When a planet of our allies is dying it is our solemn duty to take note, so its existence will never be forgotten. Will you bear Witness to the Earth's final moments with us? You have the right to decline, though you would be doing us a great honor if you agreed."

"When?"

"Momentarily."

The thought makes Becky quake inside. The end of the Earth. Right here, right now.

And they want her to bear Witness. Her, of all people.

She's tempted at first to decline. But then reconsiders, thinking of her uncles. She's never considered herself particularly brave, never really believed in herself.

But her uncles always have believed in her, and still do. Among the stories and words of encouragement there's one phrase they've both given her over the years that hasn't failed her yet:

_Be brave._

According to the mission reports the Asgard are an honorable race. They didn't have to protect Earth and the SGC during the last few months but they did anyway, out of a sense of duty.

Time to step up and do hers, no matter the consequences. The least she can do, to honor them along with those who perished during and after the Big Quake.

"Alright, I'll bear Witness for you. What now?"

Thor gestures towards a forward viewer. "Merely open your mind to us, and watch."

* * *

Once a blue orb full of swirling white clouds, continents picked out in shades of green and brown. Beautiful. A perfect and unique jewel against the black velvet backdrop of space.

Now Earth's barely recognizable.

Not like it was last month, certainly. Or even several hours ago when she was tucked in her sleeping bag, cozily sandwiched between her uncles.

What's happening is quick and devastating.

Out of all the geologists and planetologists on base, not one has yet figured out what caused the Earth to destabilize in the first place. And most likely never will.

No trace of life on the surface by now. Everything's already destroyed by earthquakes, tsunamis, horrendous storms, toxins in the atmosphere.

Ocean plates soften and melt, joining with the continental plates. Dark islands in glowing oceans of magma that soon dissolve like sugar cubes in water.

Earth's evolution winding back to the beginning, right before her eyes.

Even from this safe distance the scale is immense. At the Phoenix Foundation Dr. Williams once gave a fascinating lunch hour lecture on the Earth's structure. If, he explained, one tried to draw a scale model on paper using the floor of, say, the Los Angeles Memorial Coliseum as a surface with everything in proportion, the crust would still only show up as the thinnest of pencil lines.

The whole of human history, its drama and passion and bustle, occurring on a layer of dirt and rock no thicker than an eggshell. Which is being obliterated even as she watches.

A giant magma plume from the mantle- one of many- blasts out a chunk of rock the size of a small moon, with incredible force. It falls back down to earth, unable to achieve sufficient orbital velocity.

Without thinking Becky takes a step back, shuddering. Small alien bodies crowd around her, offer wordless support.

She's read lots of science fiction over the years, even about the end of the world. Absorbed enough concepts to follow Sam's explanations most of the time.

A big difference, though, between visualizing an author's words for entertainment and seeing it happen for real. Almost too much to accept, for all her open-mindedness and imagination.

She's tempted to turn and run. What she's Witnessing, she thinks, will surely be engraved forever in her mind and soul.

But instead she remains in front of the viewer out of a stubborn sense of obligation. See it through to the bitter end, so the survivors on New Earth will understand once and for all there's no going back.

This is what being brave truly means, she thinks.

Again the Earth has the appearance of a jewel. This time a fire opal- orange, brown and deep ruby red, shot through with streaks of white, yellow and green. Beautiful in its own alarming way.

Barely four months since the Big Quake and the planet is reduced to this.

Cracks widen in the magma, filling up with more incandescent plasma bleeding outwards from the core. Giant chunks of rock burst out of the churning surface with sufficient force to achieve orbit, tracing long, glowing curves in their wake.

At length the last fragile remnants of mantle break apart, revealing the plasma ball surrounding the planet's inner core. Spinning at a fantastic rate as it expands, spitting out fragments of molten rock and iron.

After reaching a limit it contracts, briefly.

Then explodes outward, in a final burst of heat and light.

She staggers as the ship wobbles a bit. "Whoa..."

"A slight gravitational wave," one of the Asgard assures her, a supportive hand on her arm. "Do not fear. The _Sleipnir_ is already compensating."

Abruptly orphaned the Moon shudders then continues its solitary orbit, this time around a cloud of dust and volatiles with tiny black holes and exotic particles at its center.

All that remains of the late great Planet Earth, the thriving diversity and complexity of life that surely made it one of the most remarkable planets in the galaxy, if only to those who lived there.

All of it gone. Just like that.

"Enough," Thor says.

The viewer becomes opaque. The final image burning into her retinas, possibly every neuron and synapse of her brain.

Becky wants to run, cry, faint. Scream to the uncaring universe at the injustice of it all. But she can only stand there, stunned.

A gentle touch on her arm startles her. "Dr. Grahme, close your eyes and remember," Thor says softly. "Please, let us see your world as you do."

Awareness fades as memories and images flicker unbidden through her mind's eye:

_Angkor Wat, Machu Picchu, Chichen Itza. The Taj Mahal, Eiffel Tower, Great Wall of China, Pyramids of Egypt, the Parthenon. The Ganges, the Rhine, the Amazon, the Nile, the Mississippi. Olduvai Gorge, where the second evolution of humanity began after the Ancients disappeared. _

_People of every shape, size and skin tone, living their lives unaware of the larger universe. The beauty and mystery of nature and its myriad creatures. _

_Sparkle of sunlight on the blue Pacific, the smell of salt spray and the endless roar of the surf. Sand shifting under her feet. Mac's warm hand holding hers as they stroll along the beach. _

_The warm touch of the sun in summer. Leaves turning colors in the fall, golden and crimson and burnt orange. The chill, stark perfection of winter. The first flowers of spring promising renewal and rebirth. _

_Smell of fir trees and woodsmoke, the flicker of a campfire. The hoot of owls and rustle of nocturne activity outside the tent. _

_The comfortable Craftsman home where she grew up. Sound of rain hitting her bedroom window, late nights spent reading with only the moon for company. Summer stargazing nights in the backyard, the family all together, Mac and Jack spinning fabulous yarns about the constellations. _

_Her mother's wry smiles and warm hugs. Her father's laughter, the smell of his cooking. Her brother teasing gently, ruffling her hair. _

_Three coffins, a gravestone carved with three names. Her uncles to either side, strong and loving support in reserve. _

_Lying on her bed in Los Angeles, staring at clouds passing by through the skylight. Singing with friends in high school choir. The way learning a language sparks new connections in her mind. _

_Heating dinner for Mac when he comes home after a tough assignment. Laughing at Jack's attempts to juggle salad makings whenever he visits on leave. _

_The L.A. Basin sinking before her eyes, the Pacific Ocean crashing in to fill the gap. _

_Making new friends, and unexpectedly finding love with an old one. The promise of adventure through a shimmering event horizon. _

_The world crashing down upon her once again. Darkness, cold and pain. Then two strong hands clasp hers, pull her into the light. Her beloved hero uncles, saving her as always when she needs it most._

_Flash of white light. Her beautiful, precious homeworld, gone forever._

Moisture gathers in Becky's eyes, trickling down her face. A six-fingered hand brushes a drop off her cheek with infinite tenderness.

"Tears," Baldur says, a note of wonder in his voice.

"Yes," Thor says with satisfaction. "Dr. Grahme, you have done us a great honor, offering tears when we cannot and granting access to your memories of a lost world. You have the gratitude of both myself and my race. With our duty done, we can now leave this solar system."

She merely nods in reply. Stands there in utter stillness, head bowed, shoulders slumped. Too weary in both mind and body to do anything else.

"What are your intentions towards her?" Baldur asks him. "We cannot send her back to her uncles like this. They will be angry she did the Witnessing without their knowledge or approval."

"Which is why her memory will be suppressed until the time is right, when she can speak of what she has seen to an appropriate audience."

"She has risked her sanity for us. You know how most Witnesses go insane after we release them. There must be something else we can offer her in compensation."

"I have been considering that, Baldur. It is in our best interest to make the new Tau'ri settlement as strong and thriving as possible. The High Council believes Dr. Grahme could be instrumental in that goal, with some subtle encouragement from us."

"Surely not an implant! It would go against the treaty-"

Thor waves away his objections. "Merely subliminal suggestions while she is unconscious. It will do her no harm."

Baldur frowns in thought. "She also possess the Ancient gene, as do as her uncles. On New Earth there is one of their cities, not to mention the Star in the Eye-"

"Precisely. She will be needed." He holds up a glowing device in the palm of his hand. "You have our thanks, Dr. Grahme. Sleep now."

A flash of purple light sends her into darkness.

* * *

A gentle hand on her shoulder, nudging her awake. "Becky? Time to wake up."

She yawns. "Aw c'mon, Unc. Five more minutes, okay? Not even light outside yet."

Her uncles chuckle as she sits up, taking in her surroundings. The room lit now by soft indirect lighting, streaks of blue out the viewport.

It might be any time of the day or night. Or no time at all, considering they must be in hyperspace now.

"Hey there, sleepyhead," Jack smirks at her, lacing his boots. "Must've been pretty tired, huh?"

"Was I out a long time?"

Mac looks up from inspecting his trusty leather jacket, smiles. "You slept until you were done sleeping. Harry used to say that's often the right amount."

"Not that there's much else for us to do, anyway," Jack adds. "Thor says we've still got some downtime before reaching New Earth. Got any ideas for entertainment?"

She grins. "Might have one. Still got that deck of cards tucked in one of your pockets? I'm up for some gin rummy if you guys are."

"Sounds good. Be prepared to lose a lot, though. My nickname at the Academy was 'Blackjack O'Neill' after all. Which was where my callsign came from, now I think about it. You up for a hand or several, Mac?"

He sets the jacket aside, rolls up his sleeves as he joins them on her sleeping platform. "Why not? I'll deal first. Hand 'em over."

As Mac shuffles the deck Becky rubs the back of her neck and sighs. No idea where this awful nagging headache came from. Not to mention the feeling she's forgetting something really important.

Oh, well. No matter.

Time to have some fun.

* * *

"Gin."

Jack groans. "For crying out loud. Again? How many games have you been winning since yesterday, anyway? I've lost count."

Becky laughs, counts through the bottle caps alongside the discarded playing cards. "At the current exchange rate you guys owe me at least ten favors each of whatever I need doing when we get to New Earth."

"She's gotta be cheating or something, right? Why didn't you warn me, Mac?"

"Don't look at me, Jack. If I told ya before we started how good a player she is, you would've said I was nuts. Better to let you find out for yourself." He grins and winks at Becky, who giggles.

"Yeah, sure, ya betcha," Jack concedes, ruefully shaking his head. "But really, how is it you're winning so many more times at this game than we are?"

"Natural skill and talent, I guess. Plus I've had opportunities for practice over the years."

"And just when, exactly, did you have the time among your studies?"

"Mostly playing against Pete and Jack Dalton while waiting for Unc to get out of the emergency room, after getting injured on assignment. Happened often enough for the pretty nurses to start greeting him by name, let me tell you." She winks at Mac, who ducks his head and flushes slightly.

Jack's brow furrows. "Jack Dalton? You mean that wacko foster kid from next door in Mission City who wanted to be a pilot when he grew up? Always wondered what happened to that guy."

"Usually spent a lot of time tricking me into helping him with one crazy get-rich-quick scheme after another," Mac says with a rueful chuckle.

"And succeeding, too," Becky chimes in. "Though he did an okay job keeping an eye on me the other times you were away. Another round, guys?"

"Sure, but I still think you've got somethin' up your sleeve-" The door chimes, and Jack gets up off the bed to answer. "Baldur, is it?" as the Asgard enters. "You're just in time to watch our card-shark niece here beat the pants off us at gin rummy for the umpteenth time in a row."

"Colonel O'Neill," Baldur greets with a nod. "MacGyver. Becky. You are well?"

She has the oddest impression he's aiming that question directly at her. And that he has a different reason for asking other than simple courtesy. She has no idea why.

"Just peachy, thanks," Jack replies. "Any idea how much longer 'til we get to New Earth?"

"We are not long from approaching high orbit around the planet. The Supreme Commander requests your presence on the bridge."

"Terrific. Not that we don't appreciate the hospitality, but this reminds me a lot of being cooped up in quarantine on base. I've been itching to stretch my legs for hours." He scoops up his BDU jacket. "C'mon, guys. Let's get outta here."

* * *

From orbit New Earth's actually a pretty nice planet. Just as Dr. Giovanni advertised, with oceans, two continents and several archipelagos. Everything waiting to be explored and named.

Not exactly like Old Earth, though. But close. Shades of blue-green, burnt-orange and moss-green cover the landmasses. Water close to the usual blue, though with a slight violet tinge. Icecaps at the poles and swirling clouds also familiar shades of white and gray.

Two mountain ranges on the northern half of the western continent frame the settlement valley like a pair of parentheses, running north to south. To Becky it resembles an eye, only vertical instead of horizontal.

She frowns. The shape reminds her of something important, yet for the life of her she can't remember what.

Maybe it'll come to her later.

"There it is, kids," Jack says. "Bit different than the more greener planets I've visited, but plenty of trees nonetheless. Not bad."

Mac nods in agreement. "Beautiful in its own way. And a chance at a fresh start, for all of us. Hopefully we won't blow it this time."

"We'll do better by this one, Unc. We're resourceful enough to give it the best start possible. You'll see." Looking down at their new home she can't help but feel optimistic.

"Colonel O'Neill, MacGyver. Dr. Grahme." There's that scrutiny again in Thor's unblinking gaze, making her more than a bit uneasy. "It is time for you to beam down to the planet. You will land in an open area of the settlement, instead of any private dwellings."

"Much appreciated," Jack says with a nod. "And so's your hospitality. Beam down and say hi, next time you're in the neighborhood."

"I will do so, be sure of it. Please tell General-Governor Hammond the Protected Planets Treaty is still in effect, along with our alliance. And that we will be arriving at your Alpha Base soon to aid in building your fighters and ships."

"Will do. And hey, if you guys ever need a hand with the Replicators or whatever, give me a call. We owe you big time for this."

"I was merely doing my duty, O'Neill. But not burdensome, I assure you. I wish you and your race the best of luck in your new home."

"Farewell, Becky," Baldur says beside him. "I am glad to have met you. I look forward to hearing more stories."

"I'm glad to have met you, too," she assures him. "I have plenty of stories to share, and you're always welcome to stop by."

"I shall."

She turns to their host. Manners are important, after all. "Thank you for everything. Safe travels and the best of luck to you and your people as well."

A pleased nod from Thor. "You are most welcome. Until we meet again, O'Neill, MacGyver, Dr. Grahme. Farewell."

Flash of white light.

Becky blinks in the bright sunlight. Right in the middle of a compound. Hangars and barracks and the SGC flag on a tall pole, flying proudly in the blue-violet sky.

Mac looks up at the sky, shaking his head. "Never gonna get used to that..."

Personnel gather around, gaping and murmuring. Jack opens his arms wide and grins.

"Hey, folks. Didya miss us?"

* * *

_Notes:_

_Again, no extensive knowledge of earth science or geology beyond the basics, though I did have inspiration from a couple novels by Stephen Baxter and Greg Bear. Apologies for any errors._

_A more detailed recounting of the Baldur myth can be found through your preferred search engine._

_I love the Asgard race in the series. They're so much fun._


	13. Absence Makes the Heart

The planet looks the same as it did when Daniel last visited a few weeks ago. Blue-green tint to the grass, darker shade on trees. The sun bright in a clear blue-violet sky.

Midsummer on New Earth.

His nose twitches at the scent of unknown flowers, the tickle of alien pollen. Hopes his allergies won't be so bad here; god only knows how he'll cope when they run out of antihistamines.

A triage station's set up on one side of the meadow surrounding the Gate. He and Teal'c are assisting Janet in treating the bumps, bruises and other minor injuries acquired during the mass exodus. On the other side Hammond, Walter and Sam hover around the DHD, their conversation loud enough to be overheard.

"What do you mean, you can't raise Earth anymore?"

"Sir, the Gate shut itself off," Walter says. "The wormhole simply refuses to re-engage."

"Major Carter, should you be running a diagnostic on the DHD? Is it some sort of technical problem?"

"That's a possibility, sir. But the most likely explanation is that the mountain has collapsed. A connection cannot be established if the DHD detects that the destination's become blocked so completely there's no space for the wormhole to form."

"You mean the Gate's already buried?"

"I'm afraid so, sir."

Daniel frowns. Janet not-too-subtly pokes him to get his attention back on the task on hand. "Sorry," he mutters.

"It's okay. I'm just as worried as you are, but we need to focus on the here and now. Hand me a bandage for Sergeant White's sprained foot, please." Slightly abashed he hands her a length of sterile fabric from the tray.

A red-haired and freckled airman approaches Hammond with trepidation. "Sir? The headcount of all personnel evacuated through the Gate is finished."

"Everyone present and accounted for?"

"Um no, sir. Not exactly. Three people are missing." The airman swallows nervously, pale complexion becoming even more pale under the General's scrutiny.

Hammond frowns. "Spit it out, son. Don't keep me waiting."

"Yes, sir. Sorry, sir." He consults a clipboard. "The three missing are Colonel O'Neill, Mr. MacGyver and Dr. Grahme."

A muffled gasp from Sam, her hands covering her mouth, eyes wide. Janet stumbles briefly against the edge of a nearby treatment cot before regaining her composure. Teal'c remains silent but deep furrows form under his gold tattoo.

The tray almost falls from Daniel's hands. A sickening sensation in the pit of his stomach, one he's all too familiar with by now.

The bottom's just dropped out of his world, for perhaps the third time in his life.

* * *

_He draws her close, reveling in the feel of her exquisite body against his, the love and desire shining in her guileless eyes. A scent drifts in the air- books and chocolate, sea spray, lavender and jasmine. Unambiguously, delightfully her. "My raven," she sighs. _

_"My hummingbird." He gently cups her face, leisurely runs long fingers along her soft bare skin, exploring every nuance, every facet. His tongue parts her lips to linger inside. Savoring her so slowly, so sweetly. She moans into his mouth, a thrill shooting through his body at the sound. _

_The softness of the bed stops their fall, but he's too busy learning a new language by touch and taste alone to notice. One he's eager to teach her in return, stoking their mutual desire. _

_A language of love._

_Every movement of their bodies, every endearment shared brings them closer and closer to that perfect pinnacle, a union of minds, bodies and souls unlike any other..._

Daniel wakes with a start, breathing ragged and painful. Whole body aching with need.

A longing fills him to hold Becky in his arms, kiss her, touch her, taste her. And more.

For a while all he can do is sit there, until the sensations ebb and he feels more like himself again.

Been a long while since he had a dream quite that intense before. Like she was right there with him.

Lifting the sheet he regards his lap with a wry smile. Been a while since _that_ happened, too.

A knock on the door startles him. He checks the clock, frowning at the early hour.

With a sigh he collects his glasses, heads for the bathroom to tidy up and pull on a clean t-shirt and sweatpants before answering.

Nighttime outside the windows, twin moons lending a faint lavender glow to the interior of the Quonset hut he's been assigned. Takes some getting used to but it's as big as his apartment back on Old Earth, with an extra bedroom he can use as a study or library along with kitchen and living areas.

He's never had a real, permanent home before. Not really.

Daniel barely remembers the Manhattan townhouse he spent his early childhood in, much less the nannies who looked after him at various dig sites while his parents were working. After they died came a succession of foster homes, until he won emancipation and could access his family's money. Then student dorms and rented apartments wherever his academic career took him. When he returned from Abdyos the SGC provided off-base housing, as he had barely enough time away from missions and research to go looking for real estate on his own.

He picks his way around stacks of boxes, full of his personal effects along with stuff collected from before the quakes started. It'll take a while before everything's arranged to his satisfaction again.

Maybe even longer, with no assistant anymore to lend a hand. Stopping to leaf through every book she finds, stretching the task out by hours. Just as Jack warned, he thinks with a fond chuckle.

Not that he really minded Becky's curiosity. Probably the only one other than himself on the whole base also attracted to the beauty of the written word.

From time to time he's caught himself imagining her curled up against his chest in bed, each reading their own book but occasionally sharing a sweet kiss or two...

A tear trickles down his cheek. He wipes it away with the back of his hand before opening the door.

Sam attempts a faint smile, trying hard to maintain her usual upbeat demeanor despite dark circles under eyes hinting at a rough night. "Hey."

"Hey."

She blinks, taking in his faded t-shirt and sweatpants. "Sorry, did I wake you?"

"It's okay. Can't sleep, huh?"

A halfhearted shrug. "Not really. Mind if I come in?"

He waves her inside. "Sorry for the mess. A lot of unpacking left to do."

"No problem. You should see my new place. Guess the airmen responsible for moving my stuff decided my projects ought to be moved there instead of the lab. It'll take a while to get everything sorted properly again." She collapses on the couch with a faint groan. "God, what a day. Feel lousy about ten different ways."

He sits next to her and leans forward, resting his arms on his thighs. "Know what you mean." He yawns, rubbing his head. "You want coffee or something?"

"Nah. Just need some company. That okay with you?"

"Sure." Her eyes are bright with unshed tears. She's trying real hard not to cry, he can tell.

He swallows, feeling much the same.

She leans against him and he puts his arm around her. "I miss them, Daniel," she says softly, between sniffles. "A lot."

"Me too, Sam." He kisses the top of her head, moisture gathering in his own eyes. "Me, too."

Nothing more needs to be said.

* * *

The mess- which reminds Daniel more of a refectory from his graduate seminar days- is still in the process of being organized but a decent breakfast is being served, complete with freshly-baked bread. Frozen bacon and powdered scrambled eggs but rumor has it Zoology's already got a lead on a porcine-like creature and a flightless egg-laying bird, both of which could be domesticated enough to provide the real things in the near future.

Or as close as they can get, these days.

At least there's still real coffee, though no doubt that will have to be rationed soon enough. He's not looking forward to suffering caffeine withdrawal, by any means.

Sam and Janet sit next to him, rather subdued. Each silently mourning in her own way.

"Good morning, Daniel Jackson, Major Carter, Doctor Fraiser." Teal'c is positively beaming as he joins them, tray loaded with food.

Sam offers a weak wave. "Hi, Teal'c. You seem awfully chipper this morning, considering the sad news yesterday about the Colonel and his family."

"There is nothing to feel sorrow about, Major Carter. I have splendid news to report: General Hammond has received a message from the Asgard. Supreme Commander Thor beamed O'Neill, MacGyver and Becky Grahme safely onto his ship before Cheyenne Mountain collapsed."

Her eyes open wide. "Of course! The Colonel must've held onto one of their communication stones."

Daniel blinks, momentarily unable to process the words. "So they're alive?"

The Jaffa's impassive features break into a rare smile. "Indeed they are. Alive and unharmed. They are in hyperspace now. The _Sleipnir_ will arrive in orbit tomorrow morning."

"That's great news, Teal'c. Thanks." The sparkle's back in Sam's eyes, her bright grin echoing Janet's own.

He nods in return, very pleased with himself. "You are welcome."

Daniel smiles down into his coffee, feeling better.

Things are definitely looking up.

* * *

The next night Sam shows up at Daniel's doorstep again.

This time with Janet in tow, who holds up a bottle of whiskey and three glasses. "Sipping medicine," she quips with a wry smile. "Good for what ails us."

"And what's that?"

"A bad case of romantic feelings."

He frowns. "Do we really have to be talking about this now?"

She raises an eyebrow. "Would you rather chat with Mackenzie? Or Heightmeyer at the Alpha Base?"

The thought of talking to either therapist about his personal life makes him shudder. "God, no."

"Thought so."

Sam sits on the couch while Janet claims the other armchair, pours a generous measure into each glass. "Drink it all down, you two. Doctor's orders."

Sam accepts a glass, holds it up. "To the Colonel, and his family."

Daniel echoes the toast, along with Janet. The whiskey burns a trail of fire down his throat, making him cough.

Sam knocks back her own drink, grimaces. "Reminds me of the bottle Dad used to keep in his desk drawer at home. Mark talked me into picking the lock one day so we could try it."

"What happened?"

"Mom caught us in the act, told Dad when he got back. Both of us grounded for a month, along with a stern lecture on the dangers of underage drinking." A rueful smile. "Which didn't exactly take, on my part. Tommy Henderson from next door smuggled over his dad's bottle and we finished it off in my room. The hangover the next day was awful, though. Thought I was gonna die." She grimaces at the memory.

Janet chuckles. "Ooh Sam, what a rebel you were!"

"Yeah. Though it was nothing compared to the time my then-best friend Jeanette encouraged me to lie about going to the library to study, when secretly we snuck off to the movies with a couple boys from school-"

Daniel can't help but chuckle himself. He always enjoys hearing about Sam's childhood antics with her family, since he barely had one of his own.

Sometimes he wonders if he ever will.

"So as I said earlier," Janet says in a mock-solemn tone when she's finished her tale, "we are gathered here to diagnose and find a cure for the chronic case of romantic feelings each of us have apparently developed over the past few months. Or years, in Sam's case," giving her a knowing look.

Who gapes at her. "Oh, come on! How can you think I have romantic feelings for the Colonel? Granted, we've saved each other's lives a lot. But it's normal to feel close to one another after life-or-death situations." She flushes, looking down into her drink. "I...I just really enjoy his company, that's all."

"Sure you do, Sam. Nothing about how your heartbeat picks up every time he walks into the room, the way you two share those long, lingering looks. The gleam in your eyes when you're clearly fantasizing about him-"

She nearly spits out her drink, eyes wide. "Janet!"

Another eloquently raised eyebrow. Daring her to deny everything.

Sam sighs. "Okay, okay. Enough already. You win. I'm in love with my commanding officer, and I think the feeling's mutual. Satisfied?"

A smug grin. "Much."

The admission doesn't surprise Daniel, not really. He's known they've been attracted to each other for a while now. Maybe even since that first briefing; Feretti once told him she'd even challenged him point-blank to arm wrestle, just to prove her worthiness to be on the team.

He chuckles to himself at the thought. Good thing Jack didn't take her up on it, she probably would've beaten him. And wouldn't that have been a blow to his ego right at the start!

Ever since that first mission they've been subtly flirting with each other, particularly when they think no one's paying attention. Not that it's working, in Daniel's opinion. He always notices the increased sexual tension whenever they're in the same room together.

Teal'c has noticed too, though he wisely keeps his own observations to himself. Maybe it's because of how tight they are as a team, to be as sensitized as they are to each other's moods.

Sam holds out her glass for more liquid courage. "I know we've been skirting around the issue for a while now," she confesses after taking a long sip, "to the point where it's almost jeopardized our professional relationship. I'm not happy about it, and he isn't either. We don't dare talk about it though, not even in private."

"But you still want to love him, don't you?" Janet presses.

"I do," she confesses. "Openly. I think he feels the same. But we_ can't. _The regulations-"

"What regulations?"

Sam throws her a glare. "Oh, come on. You know what I mean. We're officers in the_ United States Air Force, _for god's sake, we can't fraternize-"

"Not any more."

Her eyes narrow. "What are you talking about?"

A sudden flash of insight. "She's right, Sam. Old Earth is gone, for all intents and purposes. No more United States. No more Air Force, even, when you think about it."

Janet nods, head flopping slightly. "Exactly. And therefore no more regulations against fraternization. Until things get reorganized you're free to go up to that tall, handsome hunk of a Colonel and snog his brains out whenever you like."

Sam's eyes bulge then she falls back against the couch, giggling. "Snog?"

"British slang, Means to kiss." He's feeling remarkably lucid for being drunk.

"I've heard the word before, Daniel. I just-" She breaks into more helpless giggles. "Snog his brains out. I love it."

Janet lazily waves her hand. "Eh. You know what I mean. I'm gonna snog Mac myself when he gets here, and more besides. He's gorgeous, isn't he? And really good with his hands. Oooh, to imagine just what those long, clever fingers can do to my body..." her voice trails off, dreamily.

Daniel can't help but smirk a bit. She can get pretty lascivious when drunk. "Sounds like you've also got a chronic case of romantic feelings yourself, doctor. Is snogging the cure then?"

She shrugs. "Sure. Why not? I like Mac. A lot. He's smart, funny, caring and compassionate. Like Jack in many ways but different."

"A better listener, for one," Sam adds with her own smirk. "His eyes don't glaze over when I'm explaining things."

"And Cassie's crazy about him. He'll make a great surrogate dad for her, like he did with Becky."

Daniel nods in agreement. He likes Mac himself, for much the same reasons. Wouldn't be a bad thing if he and Janet got together, not at all. And if he's already got Cassie's approval then so much the better.

"How about you, Daniel?"

He blinks in confusion. "Hmm?"

"You gonna snog Becky when she gets here? I saw you two arrive hand in hand when we gathered for the General's toast on New Year's. You kissed her, didn't you?"

He feels a flush warming his cheeks. "Well, yeah..."

She flashes a triumphant grin. "Thought so. Pretty obvious you two have become thick as thieves over the past few months. And there's a gleam in your eyes whenever you talk about her."

"Yeah, Danny. Fess up," Sam chimes in, eyes dancing with mischief. "You already got a thing for Becky, don't you?"

"Do I really have to answer?" He squirms in his seat a bit. He's never liked interrogations, particularly involving his personal life. Not even among close friends.

"Yes," Janet says firmly. "Do you love her, or what?"

"Yeah. I...I guess I do. Never found anyone as compatible before, not even-" He swallows the lump forming in his throat. "Not even Sha're. Feels like I'm disrespecting her memory by saying it out loud, though. Does that make me awful or what?"

Sam leans forward, placing a gentle hand on his arm. "I don't think so, Daniel." Her voice is soft. "I know how much you loved her. It's not your fault the way things went down. Not at all. You did everything you could to save her. But you shouldn't be brooding alone the rest of your life, either. It's time to move on."

He shrugs. "I know. But I can't help thinking what might happen if I open myself to Becky only to lose her as well. Maybe I'm better off on my own."

"You can't possibly mean that," Janet insists. "Sha're would want you to be happy, not living alone out of fear for an uncertain future. After my divorce I felt the same for a long time, until I finally got my head straight. Take it from your doctor, it's not healthy to live like that."

Sam nods her agreement. "Exactly. You need someone to love, and be loved by in return. I think you found that in Becky. She's good for you, and you for her."

Daniel sighs, pinching the bridge of his nose. They're right, of course. Though it's not like he's had the greatest track record with relationships before now.

Nevertheless, is he destined to be solitary for the rest of his life? Does he even want to be, anymore?

He used to think so, especially right after the breakup with Sarah.

Of course, that was before he met Sha're. And before Becky came back into his life as well.

"Okay," he finally says. "I see your point. Mind if I make a suggestion of my own, though? Follow your own advice and go for it. Sam, forget any fraternization regs. Life is too short and uncertain for any of us, especially these days. If I'm taking a chance then so can you."

Janet grins, raising her glass in a toast. "Daniel, you're absolutely right. Why the hell not?"

"That's the spirit. Sam?"

She cocks her head, considering. "You know something? I might just do that. The end of the world has already happened and we're still alive and kicking, after all."

"So it's decided. We ambush them first time we see 'em, and snog their brains out. Sounds like a plan to me." Janet peers over at the clock. "I'd better get going. Cassie's gonna be wondering where I am." She raises herself- with considerable effort- then collapses back onto the armchair with a groan. "On second thought I'll stay here for a while longer. At least until the room stops spinning."

Sam slouches on the couch, her eyes closing. "Ditto."

Daniel blinks at the two women sprawled in what passes for his living room, already fast asleep. Wonders if he can get to his bed without stumbling.

He rises from the armchair on unsteady legs, wavers a bit. Drops right back down onto the cushions.

On second thought, he's better off right where he is.

* * *

_Sand, sand and more sand, as far as the eye can see. A dim haze in the air, the sounds of nocturnal creatures in the distance. Daniel's favorite part of the day._

_From time to time he and Sha're walk together in the gathering dusk, the magic hour between the sun setting in the west and the three moons rising in the east. Surveying their own little world, planning for a future together. _

_For all the time he's spent on the planet so far he still doesn't know much more about his surroundings than when he first got here with Jack. All the Abdyonians had ever known during their generations of slavery to Ra was the settlement, the naquadah mine and stone quarries, the temple and the endless rolling sand dunes in between. _

_Sha're has always patiently answered other questions about his adopted planet. Even volunteering the occasional perceptive comment or observation on her own, any time she felt he needed educating. _

_"Sometimes at the mine my people find strange creatures embedded in the rock, bones and teeth and claws that grasp, or with long tails," she comments out of the blue during one evening stroll. "Skaara scared me with one when we were children. He laughed so hard when I ran crying to our mother."_

_He nods. "They're called fossils, I remember your father showing his collection to me last month. The remains of creatures living around here a very long time ago, probably well before Ra abducted your ancestors from Earth and left them here. This whole desert might've even been under water once." _

_"You really think so, Dan'yel?"_

_"It's possible. At least that was the case for many deserts back on Earth. They used to be oceans, millions of years ago."_

_"How strange, to think of so much open water," she muses. They pause, taking in the purple length of dusk, the cool air settling over the desert like a blanket. To the north the peak of Ra's temple is barely visible above the dunes. Three moons rise slowly in the east, one after another. _

_Thunder rolls in the south, a distant sandstorm. He's not worried. They have plenty of time to get under cover. _

_"I-I just want you to know I never stopped loving you," he blurts out. "All those years I spent searching with Jack and the others after Apophis took you."_

_"I know. Even when Amanuet had control of my body, in my mind I always had faith we would find one other again." _

_"We did, but then I lost you again. For good." He swallows. "I...I tried so hard to save you, I swear I did. If I had to do it all over again-" _

_She laughs, a soft tinkling sound reminiscent of Becky's. "Silly Dan'yel. Why worry about the past? We cannot change what was."_

_"I know that. It's just-"_

_A gentle finger on his lips. "Hush, now. Do not blame yourself for what could not help but be. I forgive you, my sweet, stumbling, always questioning Tau'ri."_

_He takes her hand, kisses it. "I'll never forget you, Sha're. I promise."_

_Her smile is fond, with a trace of sadness. "I know. But it is time for you to move on. Do not get stuck in the past, like the fossils. You have already found another to share your heart and soul, have you not?"_

_"...I have," he admits, reluctantly. "Becky's very special to me. But I'm afraid I'll disrespect your memory by loving her in your place."_

_She shakes her head, dark curls tumbling over her face. "That is not possible. I will always be a part of you, in here." She places a delicate hand over his heart. "Stop brooding over the past, and live only in the present. It is all we have. Keep your feet on the ground, yes?" _

_He can't help but chuckle. "Becky first gave me that advice, years ago. Before I met you."_

_"She is right. You deserve to be happy, not sad all the time. There should be no guilt in your heart, for loving her instead of me."_

_A sharp tingle of ozone in the air. The sandstorm must be approaching faster than he thought. Time to get under cover._

_"Will you promise me something?" she asks him as the wind abruptly shifts and picks up. _

_"Anything."_

_"Think of me every now and then. And love her forever." _

_A wall of sand rears high above him after she disappears, the tidal wave of an ancient ocean- _

Daniel wakes with a start, blinking in the morning sunlight pouring through the bedroom window. He winces, rubbing at his temples in an attempt to ease the massive headache just making its presence known.

God, he should know better by now than to drink so much whiskey so late at night. Damn Janet and her bottomless bottle.

Oddly enough at the same time he feels better. Like he's been absolved, or something. All sins washed clean. The proverbial weight lifted off his shoulders.

As he finishes getting ready for the day his radio set chirps. "Hammond to Dr. Jackson. Come in please."

He activates the unit. "Something I can help you with, General?"

"Thought you'd like to know Colonel O'Neill and his family have arrived."

"Are they all right?"

"They're fine. They're being checked out by Dr. Fraiser in the hospital. Please join us at your earliest convenience."

"Thank you, sir. I'll be there as soon as possible." Daniel sets the radio down, heart suddenly pounding in his ears.

Becky's here. And alive. They all are.

He can't help a broad grin as he dashes out the door.

* * *

"Nothing interesting to report, sir," Jack replies with a shrug to Hammond's query. "Thor's an okay host but the trip was long and boring. Felt like being in quarantine, to be honest. We slept a bit, talked some, played a lot of gin rummy."

"Which Becky mostly won," Mac notes dryly with a wink to her.

She ducks her head and flushes. From time to time she rubs her forehead with a puzzled expression- as if trying to remember something just out of reach- but otherwise remains silent during their examination.

"Apart from some bruises and cuts acquired before they were beamed up they appear to be fine, General," Janet says, all brisk efficiency. "I recommend a day of rest to acclimate first though, before returning to duty."

"Understood. Colonel, please report to me tomorrow at 0900 for orientation. Mr. MacGyver, Dr. Grahme, orientations in your respective departments will also take place then. I'm sure in the meantime the three of you will have plenty of assistance from the rest of SG-1 in getting settled into your new quarters. And by the way-" A rare, warm smile. "It's good to have you here- all three of you. Welcome home."

"Thank you, sir." Jack answers for them. "It's good to be home." Hammond nods and leaves.

Janet half-turns to Daniel and winks. Oddly enough there's no one else in the room aside from the five of them, which she probably arranged herself.

A predatory gleam in her eyes as her gaze settles next upon her intended target, idly drumming long fingers against his thighs. "Mac, could you and I have a private conversation?"

The tip of her tongue peeks out and she licks her lips. He stops fidgeting, eyes widening noticeably. "Um, now?"

"Uh-huh." She pulls the curtain around his bed.

Jack snickers.

Becky rolls her eyes, as does Daniel. "Jack, c'mon."

He merely smirks at them in reply.

Sam enters, pauses, raising an eyebrow at the curtain surrounding Mac's bed. Smiles faintly, winks at Daniel before settling on Jack. "Sir, you're here."

"Yep." The smirk hasn't left his face.

She takes a step forward. "Sir."

"Carter."

She pauses again, then shakes her head slightly. "What the hell," she mutters under her breath.

He quirks an eyebrow, head tilting up in inquiry. "Carter?"

Three strides and she's wrapping her arms around his neck, pulling his head down to hers. His eyes widen as their lips meet but almost immediately he's returning the kiss with equal passion.

Before his arms close around her Jack glances at him and Becky and smirks again before reaching out to pull the curtain around his own bed.

Becky blinks in surprise. "Um, I take it Sam and Janet came to some sort of decision while we were gone?"

Daniel beams down at her. So perceptive. They'll be really good together, he has no doubt. "And so did I."

She turns to him, raises an eyebrow. "Oh yeah?"

"Yeah." In two steps he's at her side, cradling her face in his hands. "I really am glad you're here."

"So am I." Beautiful blue eyes closing in pleasure at his gentle touch, soft full lips parting.

He's no longer worried about dishonoring Sha're's memory, now he thinks about it. She'd want him to be happy.

Being with Becky just feels...right. Like he's found the other half of his soul. With her by his side he's ready to start fresh, begin a new chapter in his life.

But the time's not right for anything more intimate. Not yet, at least.

He can be patient. Better to wait until she's ready, anyway.

He's looking forward to it.

"Welcome home, hummingbird," he says softly, before meeting her lips in a tender kiss.


	14. Memorial

_The planet's dying around her. _

_Rocks grind together as the ground trembles with the released force of an earthquake. Volcanoes spit lava into the sky and overflow, burying everything under grimy ash. _

_Lightning and rain descend in torrents from the heavens. Wind whips to incredible speeds, flattening everything in its path. _

_The ocean rears, drowning the land in a tidal wave._

_She's tossed this way and that by the elements, a stomach-twisting turbulence. _

_The earth cracks open, white-hot magma seeping from the planet's core. _

_This is how the world ends. Savage, ruthless, destructive. _

_Inexorable and deadly. _

_No safety to be found anywhere. No hope of escape, of rescue. Nowhere left to run._

_Completely, utterly alone._

Becky wakes, eyes wide in the dark. Ragged breath hissing through her constricted throat as she tries to slow her pounding heart. Bites her lower lip to keep from screaming.

Strands of hair cling to her forehead. She brushes them aside, grimacing at the dampness left by her own cold sweat.

Darkness hangs outside the window, the only sounds the chitter of alien insects and soft footfalls of the night watch, patrolling for predators. Direwolves have been sighted close to the settlement, near the top of the local food chain according to the zoologists. Intelligent and deadly.

She sighs and pulls the blankets up to her chin, curling herself sideways and tucking her feet closer in to her body. Closes her eyes, hoping dreamless sleep will claim her and she can actually get some rest.

Fear and loneliness keep her awake instead, until the first grayish wash of morning creeps through the bedroom window.

Wondering just how much more she can take before going completely nuts.

* * *

Ten thousand souls.

All that remains of what once were billions of human beings. The total population, on New Earth and scattered among the Alpha, Beta and Gamma sites. Military, scientists and ordinary civilians alike. Various ages, races and nationalities, finally united under a common purpose and destiny.

Funny how it takes a crisis to draw people together, Daniel muses. The end of the world put paid to the myriad age-old conflicts, the social and political divisions hindering humanity's progress for centuries. Now they have a second chance, a fresh start. To learn from the mistakes of the past and ensure they never occur again.

The conference room is jam-packed with members of SG teams, senior staff and various department heads. Familiar setting in some ways- same impressive long table, same informative screens- yet different in others, with freshly painted walls and windows letting in more light.

Visible through those windows on the opposite side of the inner compound resides the giant hangar protecting the Stargate and related equipment from the elements, along with the main armory. The SGC flag flies proudly on a tall pole in the center.

No more hiding underground. From now on it's an open secret.

"Our surroundings may have changed, but the primary objective remains the same," Hammond asserts to everyone gathered for the briefing. "Protect our homeworld from outside threats by establishing trade and alliances with other civilizations, acquiring and utilizing new technologies, and expanding our knowledge of the universe around us.

"Within the next few months regular missions will resume, both through the Gate as well as expeditions to assess the conditions and resources of our new home. The latter in particular will be on a voluntary basis. Members of both both military and scientific branches are encouraged to participate as time permits, along with interested civilians."

"Civilians, sir?" Sam inquires.

"Yes, after a screening and training period. We can no longer keep the general population completely at arm's length, though secrecy regarding certain operations will naturally be maintained. From their numbers, after all, will come future members of the SGC. Our success as a community depends on everyone doing their part, in full awareness of what's at stake.

"Which brings me to a very important caveat. As we are no longer able to contact Old Earth through the Stargate, we must assume it's lost to us for all time. Much as it pains me to admit it, for all intents and purposes we are no longer members of the United States military-"

Surprise ripples through the room. Hammond lifts his hand and it subsides.

"-Even though we should be forever proud we served as such to the best of our abilities. The SGC will remain as it is, but from now on we are also members of the New Earth Defense Force, or NEDF. Ranking and promotion structure in both the former Air Force and Marines will be condensed and integrated where necessary. Most regulations will remain intact, though certain others may be adjusted or discarded altogether as circumstances permit."

Jack and Sam both perk up at this, though they studiously avoid each other's gaze. Daniel hides an amused smirk. His friends try hard to keep their rekindled relationship secret for the good of the outfit, but it's obvious to anyone who cares to pay attention. He suspects Hammond's looking the other way in that regard, though he has no proof one way or another.

The rules against fraternization simply don't make sense anymore, in the face of certain biological imperatives to reproduce and ensure their continued survival as a species.

Though he's not keen on seeing that imperative enforced by law either, particularly without regard to those concealing their true preferences due to DADT. It's a new world, after all. They can afford to treat each other better. Love is love, no matter where one finds it.

Chief planetologist Karen Giovanni raises a hand. "Sir, does this mean we're under a military dictatorship for the time being?" A trace of apprehension in her words, with good reason.

"I understand your concerns, doctor. I assure you that's not the case. Dr. Weir and the Steering Committee have meetings planned to work on the establishment of a constitution and the most optimal form of government for our needs. Everyone is welcome to attend and offer suggestions."

Hammond sweeps his gaze around the room, ensuring he's got everyone's full attention. "Ladies and gentlemen, for better or worse this is our new home. In addition to our original mandate we now have a second one, just as important- to further develop the settlement and ensure our mutual survival. After our success in carrying out the contingency plan, I firmly believe everyone here is up to the challenge. Dismissed."

"There we go, campers," Jack mutters under his breath as the crowd disperses. "Same song, second verse. Here's hoping we don't blow it."

Daniel can only agree.

They've got to succeed this time, or risk total destruction. No other choice, really.

* * *

After the briefing Daniel pulls his chair forward and and flips open the folder. Reaches for his coffee cup and takes a sip. Smiles in perfect contentment.

Peace and quiet. Just the way he likes it.

Set up and organization of the offices, labs, reference library and artifact storage is finally finished, except for some improvements here and there since they have more space. The other members of their modest department- the best in their respective disciplines, though a bit oddball at times even to him- have also been acclimating nicely to the new arrangements.

Even so it's a good thing he has an assistant these days, always cheerful and industrious. How he'd managed it all before her- going on missions in addition to translating, research, briefings, chairing the department- he can't even imagine.

He casts a fond smile in her direction. Took a bit of finagling to get Becky her own desk and chair, but she's worth it.

A soft sigh escapes her lips. She's leaning back, arms loosely crossed over her chest, eyes closed. Sound asleep.

Daniel chuckles, though quietly. So much for cheerful and industrious.

His amusement turns to worry as she begins shifting, face contorting in fear and frustration. More and more restless with every second.

Neither of them are strangers to staying up well past midnight and taking the occasional nap when needed. But this doesn't feel the same.

Better make sure she doesn't incur any lasting harm to herself.

"Becky? Time to wake up." Keeping his voice soft, the nudge on her shoulder light so as not to startle her.

With an explosive force she lunges forward, screaming with eyes wide open.

He backs away slightly, palms raised in placation. "Easy, now. Relax. You're fine. It's just me."

She stares at him, startled. Blinks several times. "Daniel? What's going on?"

"You were having a nightmare. You okay?"

"Not really." She grimaces, rubbing her forehead. "God, it felt so real."

He notes the circles under her eyes with a concerned frown. More exhausted than rested.

"I'll be right back, okay?" He wrings out a washcloth in the small adjoining restroom, silently blessing Alvarez and his foresight for planning decent facilities. "Here."

She takes it, burying her face with a little moan. He waits with patience while she composes herself. "So. Nightmares?"

A faint sigh. "Yeah."

"Anything I can do to help?"

She bites her lower lip, considering.

He comes closer, kneeling beside her, gently rubbing her arm. "C'mon, Becky. Tell me. Or," secretly hoping she doesn't, "would you prefer to talk to your uncles instead?"

She shudders. "God. Definitely not. If I tell them, they'd start worrying and blaming themselves somehow- or at least Mac will- and there's nothing they can do. Promise me you won't say anything to them? Please?"

Such an anxious look in her eyes. "I promise."

"Thanks." Her relief is palpable.

"I understand what you're going through. I know something about nightmares myself."

"So I've heard. I'm sorry."

He shrugs. "It happens. Like I've said before, it's not exactly a friendly universe but the wonders outweigh the dangers. I'm glad I can share them with you."

"So am I."

Daniel checks the clock, pursing his lips in thought. Wonders if it would be presumptuous to ask her out after work. She's a fellow introvert after all, he knows she needs her space.

On the other hand, he doesn't like seeing her this way. Might be good to take her mind off her troubles. "Tell you what- why don't we knock off early and go out for the evening?"

She blinks in surprise. "You mean like a date?"

"Sure. There's live music playing all around the settlement these days, people getting together and playing for fun. Might be fun to find a group and listen in."

"You're kidding. Actual, live music?"

"I'm not. Apparently one of the salvage teams came across a store selling instruments and sheet music. On a whim they packed them for transfer through the Gate. Even managed a piano or two, from what I hear. Now there's sort of an informal project going around, preserving memories and history of Old Earth through music. Plus a way for people to get together and blow off steam."

"Sounds like a good idea. You really think the boss will let us go early, though? He's an awfully strict taskmaster."

"Oh, I'm sure he can be persuaded. But let's get some work done first, okay?"

"Sure, boss. Whatever you say." Nice to see Becky grinning openly now, the light back in her eyes.

Yeah, peace and quiet and a cheerful assistant.

Just the way he likes it.

* * *

They amble home through the streets under the lambent glow of two moons. Random snatches of conversation and laughter drift through the air as people settle in for the night. A reassuring reminder they're not alone in the universe.

Becky tucks her arm around his and leans against him, in a way that makes his heart thump a little faster in sheer pleasure. "Nice night," she says softly.

He should be enjoying this private, casually intimate moment. Yet Daniel's mind is on something else entirely.

Since the morning he's been inwardly debating whether or not to tell Mac and Jack about Becky's nightmares. The puzzlement and frustration- along with a touch of fear- he saw in her eyes has made him more than a little concerned for her sanity.

On one hand, he promised not to tell. And he believes in keeping his word.

On the other hand, they're her family. Surely they know how to handle her nightmares.

Right?

The wind picks up. Becky shivers, rubs her arms for warmth.

"Cold?"

"A little. I've always been sensitive, even on summer nights. Mac always thought it weird but that's just the way I am."

"Here." Daniel takes his jacket off and drapes it around her shoulders.

"Thanks. Sure you're okay without it?"

"I'm fine."

Eventually they reach the residential square where their team's Quonsets are located. "Thanks for going with me tonight," he says. "It was fun."

"Yeah, it was. Thanks for asking me. I enjoyed it."

"Want to come over to my place for coffee or something? It's just over there."

"I'd love to. It's just-" She rubs at her forehead.

"Headache?"

"Yeah."

"Sorry to hear that. You should see Janet first thing tomorrow."

"That an order, boss?" That impish smile of hers is really charming.

"Uh-huh. The well-being of my assistant's important to me, you know." He cups one side of her face, his thumb brushing lightly against her cheek. "Very important," he adds softly.

His other arm slides around her waist, gently tugging her close. She makes no objection, even fitting her own arms around him. The rim of her glasses gleams in the moons' light. Strands of auburn hair lift and sway in the evening breeze. Soft full lips part in anticipation as she tilts her head up, awaiting his kiss.

There's the oddest sense of _déjà vu_, though for the life of him he has no idea why.

No matter. He'd be a happy man if they could stay like this forever. Perfection.

The door opens, light spilling out onto the darkness. Mac and Jack peer outside.

"Hey, there you are-" Mac blinks in surprise. "Ah. Sorry. Were we interrupting anything?"

Jack just grins. "Hey, kids. Enjoying your date?"

Becky sighs as she pulls away from him- reluctantly, Daniel's pleased to note. "A bit late to start acting parental, guys. Don't you think?"

"Oh, this is a perfect time." Jack tilts his chin up, rocks back on his heels. "So. You two gonna stand out there all night or what?"

Unbelievable. "Jack..."

"Daniel."

Her eyes narrow. "Seriously?"

"Beck." He's incorrigible sometimes, really. Even when he's teasing.

"For crying out loud. Quit it, okay?" Mac chides him.

Jack smirks but says nothing more.

Becky takes off the jacket and hands it to Daniel with a shy smile. "Thanks for the loan."

"My pleasure."

Her eyes drop to the ground, a flush tinting her cheeks. "Well, um-"

"Yeah, I-" He smiles sheepishly and rubs the back of his head.

Flash of memory back to Seattle, that sweet first kiss. And also a month ago, sitting in front of the coverstone.

Dare he do the same now, in full view of her uncles?

Her gaze darts anxiously between the three of them. "Um, guess I'll turn in now. Maybe a rain check on that coffee?"

"Sure."

She rises on tiptoe, quickly kisses him on the cheek. "See you tomorrow, Daniel. Sleep well."

"You too." He stares after her as she passes between her uncles. Swears he can still feel that spot tingling.

Jack rubs his chin, thoughtfully. Says nothing, though he's sure the wheels are turning for some sort of appropriate quip.

Mac adjusts his leather jacket against the cold, studiously hiding his amusement. "So, Daniel. You and Becky have a nice time?"

"Hmm?" He blinks. "Oh. Yeah, Mac. We did, thanks. Um, isn't it a bit late to be going out at this hour yourself?"

"Janet just got off-shift. Though I'd visit a bit with her and Cassie before she goes to bed."

Jack smirks. "You dog, you."

Mac rolls his eyes. "Like you're one to talk. How often are you over at Sam's lately, anyway?"

"Hey, whatever Carter and I get up to off-duty is none of your business..."

Daniel barely pays attention to their banter. He doesn't want to betray Becky's trust, and yet-

Jack's whistle bring him back to earth. "Something on your mind, Danny?"

"Yeah. Right. Um, I probably shouldn't tell you guys but- "

Identical quirked eyebrows. God, that's scary.

"She's having trouble sleeping. Nightmares."

They share a glance, then Jack nods. "We've kinda noticed. For how long, ya think?"

"Since you guys beamed down, apparently."

"Huh. Wonder why she hasn't said anything before this."

"Probably wanted to spare our feelings, too worried about us worrying a lot over her to say anything," Mac says. "You know how she is. What do you think's causing them, Daniel?"

"Haven't the slightest idea. I suggested she see Janet at the hospital tomorrow, though."

Mac nods. "Good idea. I'll let her know Becky might be stopping by. See you guys later."

"Don't stay up too late," Jack warns. "You may be in danger of inheriting bad habits from our niece." Mac rolls his eyes before heading down the street.

Jack yawns, stretches. "I'm gonna turn in myself. Thanks for the heads-up, Danny. See ya later."

Daniel heads for his quarters, hoping he's done the right thing by confiding in her uncles.

Feeling guilty all the same, for betraying her confidence.

* * *

The settlement hospital is larger than the base infirmary, yet smaller than most facilities back on Old Earth. Nevertheless, the doctors and nurses from the base- plus others from the Air Force Academy hospital with sufficient security clearance at the time of the ingathering- pretty much run the gamut of medical specialties.

"It's not uncommon for any of us to have the odd nightmare as a way of dealing with stress," Janet says to Becky after her exam. "Heaven knows I've had a few myself since the Program started. No one else has ever reported a run of bad dreams quite like yours before, though. Anything unusual happen to you or your uncles during the journey?"

"Not that I know of, though for some reason I keep having the feeling I'm forgetting something important."

"In what way?"

Becky shrugs. "Beats me. Feels like I'm hitting a wall every time I think about it. Frustrating as hell, sometimes."

"I can imagine." Janet makes notes on a clipboard. "There's a therapist at the Alpha Base, Kate Heightmeyer. I can contact her, we could try some hypnosis to jog your memory if you're willing."

Not a bad idea. Maybe then she could finally get some decent sleep-

_No, _a voice of caution whispers from within. _The time is not yet right. _

-Then again, she's learned to pay close attention to her gut feelings of late.

"...I don't think so. Not right now. I'll keep it in mind, though."

"All right. Other than symptoms of sleep deprivation there's nothing else wrong with you, according to my findings. I'm recommending a good long rest, along with some strategies for dealing with stress and anxiety. Can't really prescribe you anything to help you sleep, since medicines are in such short supply until we find equivalents. But I do know of something that might help. A little bird told me you love chocolate, the darker the better." A twinkle of humor in her eyes.

"A bird on Jack's shoulder, no doubt." Becky chuckles. "Yeah, the family sweet tooth. Him and cake, me and chocolate. And Mac loves ice cream; you might want to remember that just in case we figure out how to reproduce it here. The way to a man's heart, you know."

"I'll be sure to keep it in mind," Janet says dryly. She reaches into a desk drawer, hands her a candy bar. "One piece per day, to boost serotonin levels and ease anxieties. Doctor's orders." She winks.

"Out of your personal stash, even. You'd make a terrific aunt, you know that?"

"You'd make a pretty good niece yourself." She turns serious. "Look, if there's anything wrong you can always come to me, and not only because I'd like to be your aunt someday. We look out for each other, here as well as out there," gesturing towards the larger universe. "So we tend to think of ourselves as an extended family. Which includes you and Mac by the way, ever since Jack brought you in. My door is always open if you need some girl talk, and so is Sam's."

"I'll keep that in mind. Thanks for seeing me. And- could you do me a favor?"

"What is it?"

"Don't tell my uncles we talked, okay? Only they'd worry more than they should, and they've got more than enough on their plates as it is to bother with my bad dreams. Please?"

There's a funny half-smile on Janet's lips. "I promise, Becky. Take care."

The chocolate tastes as good as she remembers. Dark and rich and delicious. Her kind of medicine.

It doesn't help much with the nightmares later, alas. But it certainly improves her mood in the meantime.

* * *

One of Janet's recommendations is regular exercise. Becky thinks back to Norris, and how woefully unprepared she was to face him, even if he was drunk. Never again.

She's a pacifist but even so she knows she can't depend completely on others to protect her. Basic self-defense isn't going to cut it, if she ever finds herself in serious trouble while accompanying Daniel on a mission. More specialized instruction is needed, and she knows just who to ask.

The gym and training areas are tucked in a corner of the base. Marines and airmen alike- all part of the newly-reorganized NEDF- jog in formation along an improvised running oval marked out in the dirt, do calisthenics or perform hand-to-hand drills. As his platoon passes by newly-promoted Sergeant Ed Perkins smiles and gives her a subtle wave, which she returns.

In a side room of the main gym a training circle has been set up. Teal'c is the sole occupant, swinging a wooden staff through the air. Blocking, striking, twisting and lunging, every move with grace and power.

Becky observes in silence, admiring. Not bad for being a hundred years old, according to Daniel. A formidable warrior by all accounts. Strong code of honor and loyalty to his friends. A subtle sense of humor, too.

When finished he stands in place, displaying not even the smallest trace of surprise at seeing her. "Becky Grahme. Do you require some assistance?"

She takes a deep breath. "Could you please teach me to fight like that?"

Dark alien eyes appraise her. "I have been expecting you, after your altercation with Lieutenant Norris. You are concerned with protecting yourself, are you not?"

"Um, yeah. I am. I know some self-defense but I'd like to learn more. I'm not keen on hurting anyone but in case I go on missions with you guys I don't want to be completely useless, either. You know?"

"Indeed." He strides to a rack located against a nearby wall, frowns in concentration before selecting another staff shorter than his and passes it to her. Without further warning he begins swinging through the air, aiming directly for her head.

Becky barely manages to parry in time, but every offensive move on her part is easily blocked. Soon she slips up on the defense as well and his staff lightly taps the side of her arm. She concedes the match.

Teal'c considers her, then nods in approval. "O'Neill has told me you do not like early mornings. Is immediately prior to the midday meal an acceptable time for practice, should neither of us be engaged in other activities?"

She blinks. "Yes, it is. Thank you."

"Very well. My honor to teach you." A formal bow, fist to chest.

She follows his example. "My honor to learn from you."

He looks pleased. "You are surely one of the most courteous Tau'ri I have met, Becky Grahme. I approve."

"Um, thanks." Her cheeks redden. She has got to learn how to handle unexpected compliments better.

* * *

One day Jack strolls into the lab, hands casually in pockets. "Hey, Beck."

"Hey yourself. Daniel stepped out for a bit. Is there anything you need from him?"

"Nope. Just you."

"Come again?"

"Heard a rumor there's still a few pieces of cake left in the mess from lunch. Chocolate, too. Care to stage a raid with me, liberate them out from under Sergeant White's considerable nose?"

"C'mon, Uncle Jack," she chides. "That's not a nice thing to say. Besides, his nose isn't that big."

"I'll apologize to him later. So whaddya say, kiddo? Might be the last time we get to enjoy real Old Earth chocolate cake mix." Offers her his most disarming grin.

His eyes are twinkling in innocent mischief but she frowns a little nonetheless. Jack's not one to approach her like this, at least not for some spontaneous uncle-niece time over cake. She wonders if he has some other agenda up his sleeve.

Yet he'd never hurt her, and she's due for a break besides. Surely Daniel won't mind, especially if she saves him a piece.

"Sure," she shrugs. "Why not?"

The cake, of course, turns out to be delicious and the conversation amusing, as Jack regales her with the funnier exploits of his team that didn't make it into the official mission reports. No hidden agenda at all.

But that's not the end to the strangeness.

A few days later Mac approaches her about a fishing trip the next restday, having fashioned poles and lures in his usual style.

"More family bonding time?"

He looks a little put out. "I just thought we could spend some time together, like in the old days. You know, catch up on things since we've been busy with our own stuff and all. But if you don't want to-"

"No, no, I'd like that," she says quickly. "I bet we'll catch some interesting fish who've never seen bait on a hook before. Makes a nice change from fishing in Jack's pond where nothing ever bites."

Mac chuckles in reply but the offer makes her uneasy all the same.

Something weird is going on with her uncles, without a doubt.

* * *

By the end of the surprisingly mild summer, life on New Earth is steadily gaining ground.

Missions resume through the Gate. Seeking every advantage they can get over the Goa'uld and other unfriendlies. Finding new allies and renewing bonds with existing ones, not to mention arranging trade agreements for certain goods and services. The diplomatic teams in particular are kept busy round the clock.

It's early days and the settlement doesn't have much developed in the way of physical goods to offer in trade. But at least they can provide intangibles, namely information and how-tos for developing civilizations who wish to achieve independence and self-sufficiency from the System Lords on the sly.

Dr. Wang- one of the anthropologists in the department- calls it _guanxi_, a Chinese concept of social credit through building goodwill. These days they need as much of it as they can get.

Survey expeditions have also been planned in the valley and beyond, so naturally adequate transportation has become a major concern. It's a fair journey to get out of the valley- the nearest gap to the north between the mountain ranges is half a day away from the settlement on foot, with the southern end even further.

But solutions are being found to solve that problem. Sam, Mac and other engineers have been developing all-terrain-vehicles for exploration, based loosely on MALP designs and cobbled together out of spare parts scrounged by the salvage teams from the Air Force Academy and Peterson base motor pools. And since most aircraft had been too large and awkward to take through the base back on Old Earth, scientists at Alpha Base are working on transports that can convey people as needed and still ship through the Gate with room to spare.

Zoologists have also identified an equine-like species for more local transportation- buggies and wagons and so forth. A side project which also has Mac's attention, encouraging what Becky claims are her uncle's latent dreams of being a cowboy. Jack teases him about it every chance he gets.

It's amazing how much can be accomplished, when people put their minds to it. Good thing they're a resourceful species as well as adaptable.

Alvarez and his crew are building rudimentary roads in every direction, when they're not putting up more permanent buildings of timber and stone against the approaching inclement weather. The summer so far hasn't been a problem, but the meteorologists are beginning to worry about the severity of the coming autumn storms, due to the unusual geography.

For his part Daniel's pretty busy himself these days, though Becky- bless her- has taken over all the translating in Ancient, leaving him free to go on missions and such without feeling too overwhelmed by the sheer volume of work.

It gives him a sense of satisfaction when he goes to bed most nights, knowing progress is being made.

Of course, on date nights with Becky his senses are stimulated in other ways...

* * *

Becky's days are likewise full, taken up with translation work, training with Teal'c, assisting with the organization of the settlement's library. Not to mention the occasional mission with SG-1 when Daniel needs assistance (one of which she won't live down for years, much to her chagrin).

For a social life there are girl talks with Sam and Janet, lunch and dinner conversations as time permits or movie nights with the rest of the gang. Also date nights with Daniel, which she enjoys for the music as much as his delightful company.

On a whim one free evening she attends one of the Steering Committee's constitutional meetings. To her complete surprise she finds herself offering suggestions, including a council-based government in which members are elected from within each specialty, plus one from the general population.

Many sit up and take notice, including Dr. Weir. "That's a very intriguing idea, ensuring a truly informed electorate," she comments after the meeting. "What inspired you to suggest it, if I may ask?"

"Oh, nothing special. The idea just sort of came to me. We're on a new planet, might as well try a different approach, right? Learn from past mistakes."

Elizabeth nods, thoughtfully. "MacGyver's always asserted some of his best ideas come from you. I can see he wasn't entirely joking. Any others you wouldn't mind sharing, if you have the time?"

"Well, as a matter of fact..." Which is how she finds herself joining the Steering Committee, on top of everything else.

It's amazing the number of ideas she comes up with every meeting. Must be all those sci-fi stories she's read over the years, about space colonies accidental and planned, failed and successful. Plus a touch of her mother's foresight, seeing problems before they happen.

Certainly nothing more than that.

In time the nightmares lose their frequency, if not their intensity. Every time the memory fades quickly, leaving only a nagging sense she once experienced something terribly important.

If only she could remember what it is.

* * *

Around what has been determined as the Autumn Equinox Hammond decides a service ought to be held, a memorial for Old Earth. A time to reflect on what they've lost, and be grateful for what they still have. Thanksgiving combined with the Mexican Day of the Dead, in a manner of speaking.

A grove of tall trees has been preserved in one of the central forums, a sense of awe prevailing similar to that among the giant sequoias and coastal redwoods of Old Earth. As close as they can get to a sacred space, for the religious in the settlement.

A podium at one end and rows of chairs have set up within a large clearing, roughly the shape of an oval. By reflex flags of the United States, the Air Force and the SGC are displayed. Daniel suspects very soon the former two will be formally removed and preserved for posterity, with only the latter remaining until a new flag is designed for the settlement.

He straightens his tie- he hasn't worn a suit in a long time- and joins the others huddled awkwardly together before the ceremony begins. Jack, Sam and Janet in dress blues, Mac and Becky in the nicest clothes they'd managed to pack before the Big Quake.

Becky smiles at him, tentatively. "You look nice."

"So do you."

Mac grimaces, fidgeting with his suit. "Can we get on with this, already?"

"You do not approve of ceremonies honoring the dead, MacGyver?" Teal'c inquires with a slight frown.

"No, he just hates wearing a tie," Jack says with a faint smirk. His brother shoots him an irritated glare.

Becky closes her eyes. "Guys, please. Not today."

Sam throws them a concerned look over her shoulder from where she's standing with her father, Jacob Carter- with Selmak, of course- being present as representative of the Tok'ra. Both seem subdued, probably thinking of Mark and his family.

There wasn't much time for anyone to mourn properly, in the hectic months between the Big Quake and Zero Hour. Everyone's mourning today, though. There isn't a single one who hasn't experienced loss when the world ended, one way or another.

Just like New Year's Eve back at the base, this ceremony is intended to provide closure. Bidding the Old Earth a final farewell before focusing their attention firmly on the New.

Two Asgard appear in a flash of light, Thor and another Daniel doesn't recognize with a bluish cast to his skin. Jack greets them with a nod. "Hey, guys."

Thor inclines his head. "Greetings to all of you. My colleague Baldur and I are honored to bear Witness," Becky startles a little at the words, "for our race on this momentous occasion. You have made great progress with your new home. The Asgard High Council will be pleased."

"Thanks for the compliment. Mighty honored to have you guys here."

"Thank you, Colonel. Now if you will excuse us, we must go and thank General-Governor Hammond for extending the invitation."

After the Asgard leave Colonel Caldwell passes by, with a nod to Jack. In his wake are others who were assigned to Alpha Base during the ingathering, among them Lt. Colonel Mitchell and doctors Beckett, Heightmeyer and Zelenka.

Major Sheppard trails behind the group, chatting in familiar fashion with both Elizabeth Weir and- of all people- Rodney McKay. Sheppard winks at Becky, giving her a gentle bump to her shoulder. She smiles back at him in a way that makes Daniel vaguely jealous, even though she insists John reminds her more of her older brother than anything.

"Looks like the gang's all here," Jack quips once everyone appears to be assembled. "Time to get this show on the road."

The memorial service is pretty informal, for such a solemn affair. Hammond presides as General-Governor, along with Captain Andrea Sedgewick, the green-eyed, dark-haired base chaplain (nondenominational) and confessor-advocate. There's no set program, however- the floor's open to anyone who wants to contribute, military or civilian.

And they do. Lining up to speak behind the podium, one by one.

Prayers and psalms are spoken, from every known religion. Poems, favorite quotes and book passages are read, honoring nature or the human spirit. Memories shared- small details of everyday life as well as important events. Songs both sacred and secular are sung. Every utterance punctuated by moments of silence.

A celebration of life for their homeworld, now forever lost.

Tears flow down the faces of participants and audience alike. No one's holding back their emotions.

Daniel wipes his own away, thinks of speaking himself. But nothing he could add would be any different to what's already being said.

Traditionally in funeral services words are offered for the dead, to speed them on their way. But also for the living, to give a sense of closure and comfort. This memorial is no different.

"Is there anyone else who'd like to contribute before we conclude?" Hammond finally asks after the last one in line has spoken.

Out of the corner of Daniel's eye a gray, six-fingered hand alights on Becky's arm. "Time to remember, Dr. Grahme," Thor says, so softly he can barely hear the words.

For a moment she stares at the Asgard, uncomprehending. Then her eyes widen, and she stands up and hurries to the podium. Mac and Jack raise identical eyebrows at her alacrity.

She looks so small standing there, so vulnerable as she stares out at the assembly. Her gaze rests first on her uncles, then him.

He has no idea what she's about to say, but nods and gives her a small smile in encouragement.

_Be brave,_ her uncles both mouth at her.

She takes a deep breath, speaks in a loud clear voice:

"My name is Rebecca Ellen Grahme, and I bore Witness to the end of the world."

* * *

Daniel listens, as enraptured as everyone else by her simple, moving words. And as appalled.

No wonder she's had nightmares. Though he's not sure if it's a blessing or a curse Thor had suppressed her memory until now.

She describes each step as it happened, right up to nothing remaining of the Earth but a cloud of dust, volatiles, tiny black holes and exotic particles. The newly-orphaned Moon in solitary orbit.

Leaving absolutely no doubt their beloved homeworld's gone forever.

"The Earth is gone," she says in conclusion. "Finished. I urge you now to look at each other, and at yourselves. What you see is all that remains of a planet of incredible diversity and complexity, and we are incredibly lucky to have found another that rivals it. Therefore we should do everything we can to preserve our new home right from the start, from the environment all the way to looking out for one another.

"For we have a second chance, to learn from the mistakes of the past for the betterment of all. No more slavery, no more discrimination of any kind. No more taking without need. Treat others with kindness and consideration. Seek peace when and however you can. Give and receive love with whomever you wish as long as there is mutual consent. Above all we must be more mindful of our new home, and of one another. No one else can do it for us. If we squander this precious opportunity we've been given, it will surely result in our collective downfall. Thank you."

No one utters a single word. Even Hammond's rendered speechless, the note card with suitable closing remarks all but forgotten in his hands.

After a while the crowd breaks up, still in thoughtful silence. Leaving the seven of them alone in the grove, only the trees witnessing in their own fashion.

Mac's the first to recover, followed by Jack. They stare first at one another, then at Becky, who's clearly more than a little dazed herself.

Reminds Daniel of how she looked after laying into Sanderson, defending his presentation.

"Beck?" She flinches at Mac's careful touch. "Easy, now," he soothes. "You're okay."

She blinks up at him in surprise. "Uncle Mac? What's going on? What am I doing here?"

"You don't remember, kiddo?" Jack says, coming up beside him. "You just delivered one hell of a finish to the service. Don't think I've ever seen the General looking that stunned before, and that's saying something."

"What on earth are you talking about?"

By this time Daniel's recovered his own composure. "You told us what you Witnessed, Becky." he says gently. "The end of the world."

She stares at him in frank incredulity. "I did what now?"

Jack scowls. "Of course Thor's already beamed away, without so much as peep of apology for what he did to you. Damn, but I'd like to punch him in his little gray nose for putting you through hell like that-"

Her gaze has turned inward, much like her uncles when they're figuring something out. "Oh, god," she whispers. "All those nightmares of the Earth tearing itself apart- they were memories. I saw it happen."

"Yep. No wonder you were going a little wacko."

"You could've told us earlier, sweetheart," Mac chides her, sympathetically. "We would've found a way to help, you know that-"

Her eyes narrow. "Wait a minute. You guys already knew I was having nightmares?"

Jack rubs the back of his head, sharing an uneasy glance with his brother. "Um, yeah."

"Does the whole settlement know?"

Mac swallows at the rising anger in her tone. "Well, no. Just me, and Jack. Janet, too." The doctor nods reluctant confirmation.

"But how? Who told you guys?"

Silence. No one's able to meet her accusatory gaze.

"Um, I did," Daniel finally hears himself say.

"You did _what_?"

He can't look at the expression on her face, equal parts astonishment, confusion and humiliation. "I told them you were having nightmares, Becky. It was me."

"But why, for crying out loud? You promised me you wouldn't!" Tears form in her eyes.

"I...I thought they should know," he stammers. "I mean, they are your family, right? I was so worried about you, I didn't know what else to do."

For a time she can only stare at him, then a gut-wrenching sob escapes her. "Oh Daniel, how could you?"

"Becky, I'm sorry. If you'll please let me explain-"

She spins on her heel and runs off.

He stares after her retreating form with a growing sense of unease, like he's in danger of losing something infinitely precious-

A sudden smack on the back of his head makes him stumble. "What the hell?"

Jack's glaring at him. "Danny, for a guy who's supposed to be so damn bright I've seen you do some really boneheaded things over the past few years. But this takes the cake." A glint of anger in his eyes, like when he wants to shoot someone.

"Oh come on-"

"Ah!" Holding up his index finger. "If you don't follow after my niece right now and apologize, so help me I'll kill you where I stand, and make sure it's permanent. You hear me?"

"But, Jack-"

He makes a shooing motion. "Go on, get. Tell her you love her. That's an order."

Daniel doesn't need to be told twice.

* * *

_ If anyone would like to create and contribute stories or fan art of their own for this- or even give my original characters face claims or portraits- please let me know. I'd be more than happy to include them with my stories on AO3- or create a collection there of its own- and give ample credit._

__Also- I've __created a timeline and cast of characters fo_r_ my Ad Astra 'verse on AO3 under my username Tanista, mostly to help keep things straight. Please check it out! __

_Feedback is encouraged! I'd love to hear from any readers out there._


	15. Tempest

She stumbles her way through the settlement, blinded by tears in her eyes. People point and whisper as she passes.

_It's her, the Witness. _

_Saw the end of Old Earth. _

_Arrived in a beam of light, to guide us in the New. _

Great. Just what she needed. Forever set apart, considered a freak.

Is there anyone, anyone at all, who accepts her for herself?

_Your uncles do, _a voice whispers from within. _You know that._

She's not so sure now, considering the look of awe- or perhaps fear, which is worse- in their eyes.

Set apart all over again, as she'd been growing up. Rejected by her peers because she was so much smarter than they were, not needing the approval of others like they did. Constantly put down until convinced of her own inadequacies, the reassurances of her own family notwithstanding: _Too short, too ordinary, nothing special about you, not worth anyone's attention- _

"Becky, wait!"

Oh, god. Daniel. The one person she thought understood her like no one else.

Why did he have to go and betray her like that?

Better to run. Maybe if she gets lost everyone will forget about her. She won't have to see the pity in their eyes, the empty platitudes.

She dashes down one street and another, from what's already being called the Memorial Grove to the woods on the western periphery, bordering the river.

Thunder rolls above. The wind picks up and clouds open in a torrential downpour, the beginning of the tempestuous autumn storm season.

Eerily similar to her nightmares.

She plunges through the forest, dodging around trees. Slipping and stumbling in the mud, picking herself up. Keeps on running.

"Becky, I'm sorry-"

Why does she still hear Daniel's voice? He abandoned her. Just like her family.

Better that way, better to have no one care than have them taken away from her. Leaving her forever alone.

"Becky, hold on, it's dangerous-"

She reaches the edge of the forest, a steep cliff above the river. Trips over a downed branch and slides on the mud again, sending her skidding feet first almost all the way to the edge-

A hand grabs her, yanking her away to safety before she can slip over.

Held tight against a firm, male chest. Warm and alive.

"Got you. God, that was close," Daniel says, breathing hard. "Come on, let's get out of here before it gets any worse."

* * *

Daniel's place is cold when he wearily ushers Becky inside, both of them exhausted and soaked to the skin. He fiddles with the wood-burning stove (bless Alvarez for his foresight)- arranging kindling and lighting a match, feeding the flames with logs from a nearby pile. Good thing he knows how, thanks to campsite duties during overnight missions offworld. Soon the room is filled with a warm, cheery glow.

"Becky?"

She's staring sullenly into the fire, arms crossed tightly over her chest. He reaches for her and she flinches. "Go away."

"I can't, I live here. Besides, if I turn you out in weather like this Jack will kill me. And dying's not exactly something I'd care to repeat, at least not for a very long time," he adds in a weak attempt at humor.

She snorts but makes no other reply.

Silence stretches between them, punctuated by rain striking the roof and the crackling of the fire. Not companionable by any means.

It would've been better if he'd held his tongue. But his concern for her sanity had overridden any intention of keeping her promise.

He's a genius when it comes to understanding languages and other cultures, thanks to his empathy and compassion for others. Yet successful relationships and communication have always eluded him. As a result he's had very few deep, lasting friendships. What he has with Jack, Sam, Teal'c and Janet's been the next thing he's had to real family since- well, since his parents died.

And then there's this rapport he's shared with Becky since Seattle. Over the past few months he's come to treasure their connection as one of the best, most precious things in his life. He can only hope it hasn't been irrevocably ruined, as he's never felt this close to anyone else before.

There's nothing he wouldn't do to gain back Becky's trust, if only he has an idea where to start.

He takes off his glasses, pinching the bridge of his nose. "Look. You're tired, wet and muddy. Probably as hungry as I am, too. So why don't you take a shower, and I'll see about finding something clean you can wear while your stuff dries and fix us something to eat. Okay?"

She gives him a suspicious, narrow-eyed stare- as if trying to ascertain his motives- before nodding and heading for the bathroom without another word. She doesn't exactly slam the door, but the resulting whump is loud enough to make Daniel wince.

While she's in the shower he dries himself off with kitchen towels, checks the cupboards for food. There isn't much in the way of chocolate- an effective peace offering, according to Mac- but maybe hot food and drink will go a long way in appeasing her. He finds a can of chicken soup along with a package of saltines and a tin of canned fruit. Some rummaging through his dwindling personal coffee stash yields a package of precious Jamaica Blue Mountain- the last in the known universe perhaps, but the sacrifice is for a worthy cause.

As the soup simmers and coffee brews he changes into a blue cotton t-shirt and faded flannel pajama bottoms, selecting one of his button-up shirts for Becky. Clears a corner of the table for dinner and sets up cushions and blankets in front of the couch for a cozy fireside nest.

Five minutes later he hears his hair dryer running. When it shuts off he gives a hesitant couple of taps to the door. "Becky? Got something here you can wear."

The door opens, just enough for a glimpse of Becky wrapped in a towel, shoulders bare. Daniel swallows as his gaze sweeps automatically down her body, drinking her in. The scattering of freckles and blue traces of veins under the pale, almost translucent skin flushed with heat. The guarded brightness of her eyes, brimming with unshed tears. The burnished copper hair curling in the escaping steam. The exquisite curves of her petite form. The shadowed hollows of her collarbones, a place for kisses.

A flame kindles low in his belly, accompanied by a faint stirring in his loins. He swallows again. "Um, here you go," holding out the shirt. "Might be a bit big on you, though."

"Thanks." She takes it and closes the door quickly. A few minutes later she emerges, wiping her glasses on a corner of the shirt before putting them on.

He's never really understood the appeal of a woman wearing one of his button-up shirts. But now he does.

Deceptively delicate and vulnerable-looking, with the garment coming almost down to her knees and sleeves rolled up to her elbows. Attractive and she doesn't even know it.

She slowly raises her head and their eyes meet.

Daniel sees himself reflected in her. The lingering pain, the sense of loss. Abandonment and betrayal. The toll it takes to keep all that from defining his life.

Like him Becky's struggled with forging her own identity away from the shadows cast by her uncles' formidable reputations. Shaping her own destiny, yet unsure of her own self-worth apart from her intellectual gifts.

She's his mirror, yet also uniquely herself.

And he loves her for it.

With a start he realizes he loves _her_, with everything that's in him.

A longing seizes him, to hold her in his arms. Take care of her. Keep her forever safe.

But how can he do that if he's broken her trust so utterly?

She cocks her head, raises an inquisitive eyebrow. Wariness slowly replaced with wry amusement. "Something you need?"

You, he thinks. "Dinner's ready."

* * *

Afterwards they settle against the cushions and blankets by the wood-burning stove. Outside the storm rages through the settlement but inside they're dry, warm and fed.

Becky loves rainy weather, but only if she's inside to enjoy the cozy benefits.

She leans back, wrapping her arms around her drawn-up legs. Beside her Daniel adopts a similar pose, his expression speculative as he stares into the fire.

God, he's gorgeous. The way he stared at her wearing a towel- and as she came out of the bathroom in the shirt he'd selected- still makes her quiver inside, which she hasn't felt for a long time around a man. Her heart skips a beat recalling the naked desire in his compelling blue gaze.

Yet she ought to be realistic. Surely he sees nothing in her except for a good friendship, considering he went behind her back and all. It felt like they were heading towards something more before the memorial service but now she wonders.

"Penny for your thoughts," she says softly.

"Just thinking about what you said at the memorial, the world ending the way it did. Must've been awful to watch."

"It was. And beautiful, in its own alarming way. I'm not sure if it was a good thing or a bad thing to have my memories suppressed, considering the number it did on my sanity."

"I'm sure Thor had his reasons."

A halfhearted shrug. "I guess. I don't think I can forgive him for the nightmares, though. Felt like I was right there on the surface as the planet died." She shudders. "I've never felt so alone."

He touches her on the arm, gently rubbing. She doesn't object. "You aren't alone, Becky. Not ever. I hope you realize that." He pauses. "Good thing you were there to bear Witness. I can't imagine anyone more suitable."

She drops her eyes, one hand fiddling with the hem of his shirt. "Not sure about that. Thor gave me an out, said I could decline if I wished. But instead I chose to stay, out of respect for his race as well as for everyone who'd already perished."

"That's what I meant by suitable. You have the same sense of decency and honor that Jack does."

"Runs in the family." She can't help the wry smile.

Silence follows. Not quite as awkward as earlier, but not completely thawed either.

"Daniel?"

"Hmm?"

"Why did you go and tell them about my nightmares anyway, even when you promised not to?" She can't help the confusion and betrayal in her voice, all mixed together.

"Because they're your family, and I honestly thought they could help. I didn't mean to hurt you." Firelight shadows his eyes behind the glasses, giving them depth. "I don't expect you to forgive me. But I hope you understand I had good reason. I was so worried about you, Becky. Don't know what I'd do if I ever lost you."

So much honesty and sincerity in his voice. She swallows back a sob as her emotions threaten to overwhelm her already fragile self-control.

Why is it that being around Daniel brings her to tears as much as it does happiness? What is it about him?

She wants to forgive him, she really does. But what would happen in the future, if he feels he has to betray her trust again, even to save her life?

What advice would Mac or Jack give her? What would her mom?

Or Harry, for that matter?

_Things don't happen until they do, kiddo. The best time to pick up the pieces and make the most of what's around you is when the chips are down, not before. Don't waste time worrying over a future that ain't here yet._

Pretty sensible guy, her great-grandfather.

God, she misses him. Misses her folks and Chris. Misses Pete and Jack Dalton and Nikki and even Penny.

Misses everyone so very much.

This time tears flow freely down her cheeks.

"Hey-" Daniel turns to her with an anxious expression, eyes wide. "Are you crying? What's wrong? Was it something I said?"

She shakes her head, unable to answer for the sobs forming in her throat, cheeks burning red with her embarrassment.

Without another word he reaches over and pulls her against his shoulder. Holding her while the storm outside echoes her heartbroken weeping. Stroking her hair and rocking a little. "Shhh. Easy, now."

She curls up against him, crying her heart out. Clinging as if he was the only solid presence in her world. "Why," she wails, "why did I have to be the one to see the world end? Why those awful nightmares? Why me?"

"I don't know, Becky." He holds her tight against him, his voice soft, soothing. "I don't know. But it's over now. Everything's fine. You're fine. I've got you."

"I-I-" she sobs. "I can't live like this. I've lost so much. I want to die!"

"No, you don't. The world may have come to an end, but you're still here. Your uncles are still here. I'm still here. You're not alone."

She nestles closer against his chest, rubbing her cheek against the soft cotton of his t-shirt. "Don't ever leave me. Please."

"I won't." Long fingers smooth down her hair, patiently calming her fears. "I've got you, sweetheart. I'm not going anywhere."

She rests quietly in the circle of his arms, utterly drained. Finally beginning to feel warm and relaxed, all the way through. The fire pops and cracks, little bits of blue and green flame among the red and orange, smelling like evergreens.

"Feeling better yet?" he asks after a long while.

She swallows down the lump remaining in her throat. "I...I think so. Sorry for breaking down like this, over nothing. It's embarrassing."

He smiles sympathetically and reaches to cup her face, thumb brushing along her cheek. "It's not for nothing. You're mourning for what we've lost, like we all are today. Only you've seen and felt that more keenly than any of us. It was a brave thing you did, coming forward at the service. You're stronger than you know, Becky. You can handle anything that comes your way."

"I wish I could believe you."

"You will, in time. I'm sorry for betraying you, I really am. Forgive me, please?"

She's been unfair to him, and it's not his fault. He's trying to look out for her, in the best way he knows how. He meant well, really. Still does.

Why did she want to keep it a secret from her uncles, anyway? Was sparing their feelings really all that important, because she'd feel guilty if they worried too much over her?

Though she hadn't been abandoned to the world as completely as Daniel, there's no denying she wouldn't have come as far without her uncles' steadfast love and support. Ever since the car crash they've been there for her.

And so is Daniel- here, now. Cradling her in his arms, as if he could protect her single-handedly from the universe and its dangers.

"I forgive you," she says. "If you'll forgive me as well. I'm so sorry for yelling at you earlier."

"It's all right, I understand." His smile is warmer now. Much warmer.

God, he's perfect. Intelligent and perceptive. Gentle and strong at the same time. Kinder and more considerate than she deserves.

Everything she wishes for in a man, and never, ever believed she could have.

Tears trickle down her cheeks. A long finger brushes them away with infinite tenderness.

"Hey," he says softly. "No more of that, okay?"

When she doesn't reply he puts one hand under her chin, tilting it up for what's clearly intended to be a friendly kiss.

Which doesn't stay friendly for more than an instant. Soon they're eagerly tasting each other, his hands combing through her hair, her arms winding around his neck. Pressing themselves closer, seeking oneness as if by instinct.

When they finally move apart he stares at her in wonder, like she's a new, fascinating discovery. "Oh, Becky. I never dreamed-"

"Me, neither." She touches his cheek, as surprised by the sudden desire as he is.

Her mom would've considered it a common enough reaction after great emotional stress. Especially between two people already attracted to one another.

There was that one night in Seattle, when he kissed her. They could've become lovers then, so easily. But being good friends instead turned out to be smarter in the long run, for both their sakes.

She's never felt this intense a connection before, not with anyone and certainly not with her previous boyfriends. It never felt right, pursuing a more intimate relationship with any of them.

Because she'd been afraid.

Afraid to really give of herself, without that connection. Afraid of losing herself in physical pleasure- much less whatever came after- without feeling she could completely trust in her partner.

Afraid until now, that is.

Could this be what they've been heading towards, the whole time?

Whatever it is, she's ready.

"Daniel?"

"Yeah?"

"Please, make love to me."

"You're sure?"

"I'm sure." She removes their glasses, setting them aside in a safe location. Then reaches for him.

Their mouths meet and open, devouring each other. Clothes quickly disappear, making way for the thrilling sensation of skin on skin.

He sighs as she tentatively nibbles his earlobe, traces his jawline with her tongue. Gasps as she trails her hands down his chest, his entire body quivering with her exploratory caresses. His lips make her shiver in turn as they brush against the sensitive spots behind her ears, the back of her neck, along the curve of her shoulders. Kisses away her remaining tears, murmuring endearments in every language he knows.

With the rapport granting full awareness, they take a certain tenderness and care with their mutual arousal, sensitive to every nuance of each other's reactions. But neither stop their explorations until the need becomes too impatient to put off any longer.

A stab of pain as he fully joins with her. His eyes widen in surprise. "You...you're-"

She clings to him with fierceness. "Please, my raven. Please. I need you. So much."

"Oh, hummingbird." Already he's beginning to move. A slow, steady rhythm as old as time, as enduring as love.

She expected pain, brief as it was. But not that he's curbing his own urgent desire, waiting on her pleasure- and oh, what incredible pleasure!- before taking his.

"My love, my life," he breathes against her skin as he increases the pace, movements becoming more and more erratic.

"My heart, my soul," she gasps, caught up with him in a second culmination.

Unity for a brief yet timeless moment, in mind, body and spirit. Perfection.

A sense of delicious heavy warmth as he collapses on her. Sharing one last sweet, lingering kiss before shifting away, then pulling her close to nestle into his arms. They curl together in their warm nest, spent and replete, giving each other light, lazy caresses. Feeling no urgent need to do anything other than savor the experience they just shared.

The rain falls calm and quiet now like benedictions from the heavens, the tempest finally spent.

* * *

When it seems possible the fire might die altogether they build it up again and move to his bed, settling in amid soft cotton and down. Dreamily content to bask in each other's company.

"Becky?"

"Hmm?"

"Why didn't you tell me you were a virgin?"

"You didn't ask. Why? Is it that important?"

"I don't think I'd have loved you if I'd known. Afraid you'd think I was taking advantage of your vulnerability or something."

"All the more reason not to tell you," she points out. Rests her head on his shoulder, playfully entwining their free hands together. "But I'm glad it was you. It was...a lot nicer than I've been led to believe first times usually are."

"A compliment?" Amusement clearly in his voice.

"Mmm-hmm. Makes me glad I waited, you know? This is sweet beyond my wildest dreams."

"For me, too," he admits, lightly touching her cheek, drawing her in for a tender kiss that leads to more.

"Daniel?"

"Hmm?" as he gently nuzzles her ear.

"Why did you follow me?"

He pulls back, blinking. "Why not? We're friends, aren't we? Ever since Seattle, those emails we shared- you don't know how much I enjoyed corresponding with you. And because-"

"Because what?"

He lowers his eyes, bashful even after the intimacy they just shared. Adorable. "I needed to apologize. I couldn't bear to lose you like that, not when we've just begun. You're very special to me, Becky. I care about you, a lot."

This time it's her turn to pull back. "You do? Why?"

He smiles sadly, brushes her hair away from her face. "You still don't get it, do you? We compliment each other so well, I've never known anyone so compatible. You're brave, beautiful, brilliant, caring, thoughtful, humorous, perceptive-"

"But I'm not. There's nothing special about me. I'm easily overlooked, I'm ordinary, I'm not anything like Sam or Janet-"

A gentle finger silences her, tracing along her lips. "Hey, stop it. No more of this. Don't make comparisons to others only to put yourself down. That's not worthy of the woman I love. You're better than that, you know you are."

A thousand protests swirl in her head, only to be swept away by a single, mind-blowing fact. "...You love me?"

"Yeah, I do."

The quiet sincerity in his voice brings tears to her eyes. "Oh, raven. I love you too."

"My hummingbird." His hands and lips explore her body, whispering words of love against her skin. She answers breathlessly with words of her own as together they discover those secret, intimate delights which send tremors of wildfire through their bodies.

His pleasure becomes hers and vice versa, with no thought where it begins or ends. Communicating with each other now in their own language of love, one that transcends all other forms.

Hot desire, exquisite tension, inevitable tempest. Then sweet, healing sleep, complete in each other's arms.

* * *

Becky wakes, blinking in the dim lavender light illuminating the room. Taking in her surroundings with a faint frown.

She's fairly sure this isn't her bedroom. So how did she wind up here?

A soft grumble from the man beside her and she remembers with a smile.

The concert, a leisurely stroll in the night, coffee and intimate conversation at his place. And afterwards...

Oh yes, afterwards.

With a contented sigh she turns over and studies her lover's relaxed, supine form, head turned in her direction, the bedsheet barely covering his modesty. One arm draped over his chest, the other stretched out towards her, protectively.

Lean and muscular in all the right places, the result of training and mission experience. Smooth skin with almost no chest hair, eminently kissable. Long, sensitive- and quite accomplished- fingers. Short brown hair with unexpected blond highlights, soft between her fingers. Slightly almond-shaped eyes closed under finely drawn eyebrows, long lashes fanning across his cheeks. A gentle, contented smile on the sensual lips.

Beautiful, even without the glasses. In so many delightful ways.

Moreover, he makes her believe she's beautiful, too.

It amazes Becky all over again how they became lovers during that fateful afternoon following the memorial, little more than a month ago. Ever since it's gotten only better.

For a couple of shy geeks they're having quite the tempestuous, passionate affair. With a delicious shiver she recalls the emotions he skillfully evokes within her every time they make love, with a complete and total trust in one another.

(He's made up for his betrayal several times over, to her complete satisfaction. He's _very_ good at apologies, as it turns out.)

She's never really thought of herself as sensuous, or even overly feminine. But Daniel makes her feel that way, aware of her body like she's never been before.

Which certainly never happened with any past boyfriends. But then, she'd never felt this deep a connection with anyone else, either. Not even the family bond she shares with her uncles.

Words can never express how much Becky adores her clever, talented, romantic, downright sexy archaeologist. Sweet and gentle, thoughtful and generous, even at the height of his passion. With him she feels cherished, coddled, cared for. Loved for everything she is.

The same way she feels about him, more and more every day.

At first she thought it would be awkward, to be colleagues as well as lovers. But their physical intimacy has only deepened and intensified their rapport, professionally as well as personally. Sharpening their anticipation of each other's needs to an even finer degree.

With an impish smile she trails her hands ever so lightly over his chest, curving around the pecs and circling the oh-so-sensitive nipples. Wondering if he'd wake for a repeat performance.

As she bends to kiss the skin one eye cracks open. "Hey."

"Hey."

"Sleep well?"

"Yeah. No nightmares. None at all."

"Good." He takes her hand in his, kissing the palm, sending a thrill throughout her body. "Today's a rest day. No objections to sleeping in, I trust?"

"Not one." She pauses. "Daniel?"

"Hmm?"

"Thanks- for everything."

"My pleasure, Becky. Yours too, I hope." He reaches out and pulls her close, a warm puff of breath against her neck as he whispers soft words.

"What was that?"

"Ancient Egyptian, _mr i Tn_."

Her heart swells at the endearment. "And _Philo se_ to you, too."

"Ancient Greek. Nice."

"Been learning." She trails her fingers over his cheek. "Maybe we oughta find out one of these days just how many languages we can use to say 'I love you' to one another."

"Maybe we should." He yawns. "Know something, hummingbird? I'd be happy if we could stay like this forever."

"Me too, raven." They share a sleepy, satisfied kiss before he closes his eyes.

Snuggled against her newfound love in perfect happiness, Becky quickly follows suit.

Let the future bring its own tempests. There's nothing they can't handle in their new home, so long as she and Daniel are together.


	16. Legacy of the Ancients

-Gateway Settlement, New Earth. Year 2.-

MacGyver's trapped.

Completely unable to move an inch with the weight pushing down on his chest. His arms are free but that's about it. The pressure's almost, but not quite, suffocating.

Which means he has to figure a way to remove the weight soon. Won't be easy, considering how much resistance he'll be facing if he isn't careful.

He opens his eyes, takes stock of the situation.

Janet's sprawled on top of him, head turned to the side, her hair all up in his face. He brushes it away with a smile.

He'd love to stay as her body pillow but he has to get out of here. Starts scooting back against the headboard, slowly levering himself up. Maybe he can shift her just enough off of him before she wakes so he can escape-

She stirs, murmurs something unintelligible. He holds his breath. She finds his hand and squeezes it, he squeezes back.

As she slowly opens her eyes he finds himself lost in a deeper and more compelling brown than even his own. "Hey."

"Hey yourself," her voice muzzy with sleep. "Goin' somewhere?"

"Yeah. Got a mission this morning."

She squints at the clock, groans. "At this hour? Way too early. Must've been Jack's idea."

"Yep. The early bird catches the worm and all that. Only I'd rather stay here with you." He reaches out to play with a strand of auburn hair before tucking it behind her ear, lightly fingering the delicate lobe.

She sighs. "God Mac, you're perfection."

He grins, almost blushing, but continues his caresses. Stroking along her cheek, down her neck and chest. Her eyes close in pleasure.

She's the one who's perfect, he thinks. Brilliant, beautiful, warm and so very passionate. He hasn't been this head over heels in love for a long time.

Been a long time since he's felt this contented too, all rested and cozy and thoroughly at peace. If only they could spend the rest of the day together in bed, and let the rest of the world go hang.

So strange the turn his life has taken, in the past few years. How much everything has changed, and for the better. A long time since he's felt this close to anyone, outside of family.

Already Mac can't imagine not having her in his life. The twinkle in her eyes every time she sees him. Her wry smiles, cheerful laughter, cheeky sense of humor. The thrilling sensation of her body against his as they make love.

All because he decided to take a chance.

An impish smile spreads across Janet's face. She begins moving against him in a slow, sensual fashion that sets his heart to pounding. "Are you really sure you have to go?"

Definitely a lot of resistance, if the stirring in his loins is any indication. "Um, yeah. Sorry. Rain check for later?"

She grins, leaning forward to capture his lips before pushing herself off and away from him. "Sure. I should get up anyway, make sure Cassie's ready for school."

When he emerges from the bathroom she's already dressing, buttoning up her uniform blouse. He swallows again, his gaze lingering on her gorgeous curves.

Janet catches him looking, quirks an amused eyebrow. "Something on your mind, handsome?"

"Just admiring the best-looking doctor on New Earth." Offers her his most disarming grin.

She beams at him, standing on tiptoe to meet him halfway for a tender kiss. "Flatterer. Have a good day at work. See you tonight."

"You, too. Looking forward to it."

* * *

Mac heads for a partitioned area serving as a ready room of sorts, to wait for the rest of the team. Today's mission doesn't call for Gate travel but a contingent from Alpha Base is arriving soon to accompany them.

Jack and Sam are laughing at something as Mac enters. Both seem more at ease lately, ever since their relationship's been officially sanctioned by Hammond. More comfortable in their own skins, and yet just as focused on doing their jobs as ever. In fact relaxing the fraternization regs and doing away with DADT altogether has done wonders for morale in the NEDF as a whole- and the SGC, in particular- to the surprise of many.

Sam notices him and grins. "Hey, Mac."

"Hey, Sam. Got the drone with you?"

She points to a metal case by her feet. "Yep. Version 2.0 is ready to go, thanks to your suggestions."

"Terrific. Looking forward to giving it a field test once we get to the city." He catches the smirk Jack throws in his direction. "And good morning to you, too. What's on your mind?"

The smirk widens into a grin. "Just thought we'd have to pry you away from Janet, considering how much time you're spending with her lately."

Mac snorts. "Could say the same about you two. How's the _klah_?"

Jack contemplates the contents of his mug, emblazoned with the SGC logo. "Not too bad. Getting better all the time. Tastes as good as it smells, for a change."

"Great." He heads for the beverage urn set up at the other end of the room, dispenses a cup. The pleasing aroma of coffee and chocolate with a hint of cinnamon drifts to his nostrils.

(It was Becky's suggestion to name it after a drink from one of her favorite literary sci-fi series, but surely they can come up with a more appealing name.)

He takes a speculative sip, adds a little crystallized sweetener derived from a native tuber. It's been a bit of work for the Chemistry and Botany departments over the past year, finding local equivalents to so many things taken for granted back on Old Earth- sugar and soap and even shampoo. They've been toiling pretty hard for Janet and the hospital of late to augment their dwindling stock of medicines, especially after the severe illnesses brought on by this year's brutal winter.

Teal'c enters, serene as always. "Good morning, O'Neill, Major Carter, MacGyver."

Jack raises his cup in greeting. "Morning, T. You seeing anyone lately?"

Also as always he takes Jack's _non sequitur_ literally. "Indeed I am not. Despite living on different worlds my mate Drey'auc and I enjoy a most cordial and satisfying relationship, much like you and Major Carter, or Becky Grahme and Daniel Jackson. There is no need to seek other companionship."

"Where are those two lovebirds, by the way?" Jack wonders. "They're gonna be late for the meet-up if they don't get a move on. Hey Mac, go and see what's keeping 'em, why don't ya?"

Mac shoots him an irritated glare- his brother would have to ask just after he got comfortable- but complies.

* * *

He finds Becky and Daniel in the lab, suited up and ready to go. Probably needed to do some last-minute research before the briefing.

They're standing close together, talking quietly. Lost in their own little world.

He deliberately hangs back, unwilling to intrude on their private moment.

"...So what do you say? I'm willing to take a chance if you are."

"I don't know. It's a big step. I mean, we've only been together a couple years."

"We've known each other longer than that, if you count Seattle and our correspondence. Which I do. This isn't just some casual relationship, not for me at least." Daniel takes Becky's hand in his, entwining their fingers. Leans in closer, as for a kiss.

She backs away to fiddle with a pile of papers, a flush tinting her cheeks. "It isn't casual for me either, you know that. It's just, um-"

"Just what?"

She swallows, her eyes dropping to the floor. "Nothing. I...I'll think about it, okay?"

"Okay. I really hope you'll say yes." He reaches out, touching her cheek. Naked longing in his gaze, even as she keeps hers downcast. "_Ti amo, colibrì_," he adds softly.

"_Ti amo anch'io, corvo_," she replies just as quietly.

Mac really doesn't want to interrupt at a time like this. But there's no choice.

He clears his throat. "Um, guys?"

"Unc? What are you doing here?" Becky turns towards him with palpable relief.

"Jack sent me to fetch you guys. Almost time for the others from Alpha to get here."

A klaxon abruptly begins shrieking, echoing throughout the compound. The PA system crackles to life. "Scheduled offworld activation from Alpha Base. Repeat, arrival from Alpha Base."

"Sounds like our cue," Daniel says. "Jack doesn't like to be kept waiting."

* * *

The Gate's already open when they arrive. As are the hangar doors directly behind it, to Becky's surprise.

The blue-white shimmer of the event horizon ripples. A blunt, slightly angled nose of some kind of craft emerges, followed by the rest of its roughly cylindrical shape.

She grins. "It's a shuttlecraft, like the ones on _Star Trek_."

"More like a small spaceship," Sam corrects her. "Designed for missions when it's too far to walk or too awkward to take one of the ATVs. We're building much larger ships at the base too, with help from the Asgard."

"That's why you and Mac spent last month as consultants with the scientists there, huh?"

"Uh-huh. Took a while for us to work out all the technical kinks. McKay even doubted this one would be ready in time for this mission."

Jack snorts. "Loudly and often, I bet."

"The understatement of the decade," Mac concurs with a rueful grin. "The guy doesn't know when to shut up."

Just away from the event horizon the craft executes a careful curve to the left, ruffling hair and sending loose papers flying in its wake but otherwise causing no damage. It slowly glides out of the hangar and neatly settles down on the landing field beyond, which happens to be the meadow where the Gate was originally located.

Becky's impressed. Whoever's piloting must be really good.

A second craft quickly follows before the Gate shuts off, landing precisely next to the first.

"Looks like the rest of our party's here," Jack says. "Let's go and say hi, campers."

A ramp in the rear of the ship lowers and three men step down, barely paying any attention to their surroundings for all their bickering. "_Už dost_!" Zelenka finally snaps. "I have had it up to here with you," raising his hand well above his head.

"Radek's right, Rodney. Bloody hell, will ye please stop complaining for once?" Beckett chides. "We're on a mission, for heaven's sake. Behave yourself or you'll be answering to Colonel Caldwell when we get back."

McKay glares at them. "Whatever. Do we have time to get a bite to eat? I'm starving."

"Always hungry, you are. _Odpadky střeva_," Zelenka adds in Czech under his breath. Daniel catches it, hiding a chuckle behind his hand.

"What did he say?" Becky asks him. He whispers in her ear, she unsuccessfully suppresses a snort of her own.

McKay's eyes narrow. "What's so funny, pipsqueak? And what are you doing on this mission, anyway?"

"Pipsqueak? Seriously? Surely a genius like you can come up with a better insult than that." She's more amused than insulted, actually.

He bristles. Reminds her of feisty Zoe Ryan, in a way. Never satisfied, always spoiling for a fight.

A defense mechanism, as her mom might say. Must've been bullied something awful as a kid.

"Relax, Rodney." Sheppard drawls, clapping him on the shoulder as he passes by. "She has as much right to be on this mission as any of us. Right, Dr. Jackson?"

"She knows Ancient better than anyone else here. Including me." Her cheeks warm at the unexpected compliment, even as she avoids the pleading look in his eyes.

"There, see? Now behave yourself. General, Colonel," offering a salute to Hammond and Jack.

Behind him two other officers from the second shuttlecraft follow suit, Major Lorne and Lieutenant Ford. Mac nods at them in friendly fashion and they nod in return, clearly recognizing each other from Alpha Base.

Becky waves to John. "Hey, big brother."

He winks back. "Hey yourself, little sister."

Jack raises an eyebrow but ignores their banter. "Nice piece of flying there, Major."

Sheppard grins. "They're beauties, aren't they sir? I'm calling 'em Puddlejumpers."

McKay scowls. "Puddlejumper, indeed. How many times do I have to tell you they're nothing like piddling commuter aircraft? They're Gateships. Ships that go through a Gate. The name couldn't be any more obvious."

Sheppard casually waves him off. "Same difference. Anyway they're ready to go, sir," he says to Hammond. "Should carry all of us there and back with ease."

"Excellent. Everyone, please join me in the briefing room. I believe Doctors Jackson and Grahme are ready to begin their presentation."

"Nervous?" Daniel asks softly as they head for the briefing room.

"Maybe a little," Becky admits with a one-sided shrug.

A gentle hand rests on her shoulder. "Don't worry. You'll do just fine. Um, about what I said earlier-"

She flinches from his touch. "I don't want to talk about it right now. Maybe later, okay?"

"Okay."

She focuses solely on her notes, unwilling to meet the hurt and worry in his eyes.

* * *

Mac listens with interest as Becky and Daniel make their joint case for the mission, laying out theories and speculations backed up by translations displayed on the monitor. He's still fond of archaeology and the topic's frankly fascinating.

Good thing Jack's letting him come along, and not only for him and Sam to do field tests of the improved sensor drone, either. He wouldn't want to miss this for the world.

Besides it's kind of a hoot, watching their complimentary talents come into play like this. Whenever Daniel's inclined to stray from the point with side anecdotes and obscure citations Becky keeps everything on course. He does the same for her in turn when she gets bogged down with details.

Jack has no problem paying attention for once, even seems to be getting a kick out of it. "So this isn't just one of their wacky little outposts?"

"Not at all," Becky confirms. "It's an entire city, though why it's located in the mountains instead of the middle of the valley remains a mystery."

"It's not just some other alien or human civilization we're talking about either, Jack," Daniel chimes in. "This is a city of the Ancients, the ones who created the Stargate network. It's a huge discovery."

"They certainly left behind quite the legacy when they disappeared," Sam concurs. "All that potential knowledge and technology. It outweighs anything else we've come across since first going through the Gate. Hopefully we can put it to good use."

Hammond nods his agreement. "Ladies and gentlemen, I don't have to remind you we need every advantage we can get over the Goa'uld, particularly with Anubis gaining power and influence over the other System Lords. If you can find anything in the city that might increase our offensive or defensive capabilities I will count this mission a success. Doctors, thank you for an informative presentation. Good luck, all of you. Dismissed."

Jack starts whistling a tune under his breath. With a start Mac realizes it's _In the Hall of the Mountain King_ by Edward Grieg. Appropriate but odd all the same.

Who knew his own twin would gain an appreciation for classical music, of all things?

Talk about a mystery for the ages.

* * *

The Puddlejumpers head east. Soaring over the fields of experimental farms, a pretty patchwork of imported Old Earth plants interspersed with local versions being tested for human consumption. Soon fields give way first to meadows, then dense forests.

Sheppard's once again as pilot, Jack leaning back in the copilot's chair to enjoy the ride. Mac sits behind them with Sam in secondary passenger seats, while others are perched on benches or fold-out jumpseats further back. The roar of the engine keeps conversations muted.

On one such bench Mac notices Becky and Daniel sitting close together. She hands him a bottle of water and he accepts it with a smile, letting his fingers trail over the back of her hand. He asks her something and she quickly shakes her head, her gaze dropping to the floor.

Becky's reluctance is puzzling. They're usually pretty tight, even though they wisely tend to avoid public displays of affection during working hours, much less on a mission.

Mac's honestly glad she found someone, though he can't help feeling a bit left out all the same. They had such a close bond while she was growing up, but now it seems she's spending more time with Jackson than him. Yet he can't really begrudge her a chance at a lasting relationship either, what with being preoccupied himself with Janet and Cassie.

Nevertheless a small, stubborn part of him keeps insisting Becky's still an innocent little girl in pigtails, instead of an enlightened young woman in love.

Maybe he'll always worry about her, even after she marries and has a family of her own. Just part of being a parent, as Janet or even Allison might say.

Jackson had better mend his fences with Becky, and soon. He'd really hate to see his niece suffer a broken heart.

* * *

"We're coming up on the city, sir," Sheppard announces half an hour later.

"Good. Land us over there in that meadow, at two o'clock," Jack orders. "We can walk from there, assuming it's not booby-trapped on the way. God knows what those wacky Ancients left behind."

Both Jumpers settle and everyone disembarks, stretching and arranging their gear.

A sudden long, drawn-out howling sends a chill down Mac's spine. Jack and others automatically reach for their weapons, equally startled.

"What the hell was that?" Ford's eyes are wide behind the sights of his P90.

"Direwolves, Lieutenant Ford," Teal'c says, hefting his staff. "A most dangerous predator species. There have been incursions into the settlement by their packs, doing considerable harm to the animals and crops raised by the farmers."

Daniel frowns. "According to the latest survey by Zoology there haven't been any around here for the good part of a year. Wonder why they're back."

"Whatever the reason, it can't be good." Becky's hand twitches toward the serpentine weapon in its holster, the one Jack calls a zat.

Mac's dismayed she has to carry it, even though it has a stun setting. He still refuses to carry a weapon himself but ruefully acknowledges their necessity, especially since they've had to compete with the direwolves for dominance over the past couple years.

"We'll keep an eye open if they show up," Jack says, putting on his sunglasses. "Let's move out, campers."

They walk through the woods for a while. There are more howls yet no other visible signs of the direwolves' presence.

Entering the city is easy. Through a massive open archway, down a broad stone avenue flanked by buildings. The elevation's about three thousand feet or so above sea level, according to readings from the sensor drone.

Beautiful. Unreal.

And eerily quiet, save for the occasional call of avians, their footsteps and the soft whirring of the drone hovering ahead of them. Too much so for Mac's liking.

Apparently Jack feels the same, filling the silence with his usual levity. "So what've we got here, Carter? Did they hire the same architects and building crew like everywhere else, or what?"

She studies the tablet in her hand. "According the readings from the drone the buildings do have the same composition as other Ancient sites, sir. Stone laced with naquadah for durability."

"So crude-looking," Becky comments. "Like they've been carved right out of the mountain. And huge! The Ancients weren't ones to build small, were they?"

McKay sniffs. "Yes, yes, thank you for the observation, Miss Obvious."

"That's Doctor Obvious to you," Sheppard gently chides, with an apologetic glance at Becky. Amazing how he can take the scientist's constant abrasiveness in stride.

Interesting relationship she's struck up with him over the past couple years, Mac muses. Apparently he reminds her of Chris, after a fashion. Weird hair, though.

"The Ancients did everything big," Daniel admits. "Durable, too. Their structures tend to last for millions of years, barring disasters. Remember the Repository of Knowledge on P3R-272?"

"As if I could forget," Jack groans. "Not a picnic, let me tell you."

An air of abandonment pervades the place, like the Ancients just up and walked away from everything, in one fell swoop. Remarkably well-preserved, considering.

"So what exactly happened to these Ancients?" Mac asks Daniel.

"We've just barely scratched the surface, really. There's still a lot about their civilization we don't know. Apparently they fell victim to some sort of plague, one too big and deadly to deal with for all their technological advances. As a result they abandoned practically the whole galaxy."

"So where did they go?"

"Well, many left the Milky Way altogether, though to where we have no idea. Others sought Ascension-"

"-Which is what exactly, people turning into disembodied spirits? More mind than matter?"

Daniel nods. "Something like that. Or maybe just a transfer to another plane of existence."

"_Úžasný. _How might that come about?" Zelenka wants to know.

"Remember the first law of thermodynamics? Energy can neither be created or destroyed, but it can transition between states," Sam explains. "Apparently the Ancients believed it applied to a person's life force, too. They certainly were further along the evolutionary path than us, to make the transition from matter to energy possible."

Eventually they come upon a single massive tower in the heart of the city. Possessing no obvious entrance, just a high, smooth, solid wall.

"Dead end?" Jack quips.

"It would appear so, O'Neill," Teal'c notes. "No other means of access are visible at this time."

A loud howling echoes through the silent city, answered by yips and wails in many directions.

"Man, that sounded awfully close," Ford says with a shiver.

"Yeah." Jack sighs, tilts up the brim of his cap. "We gotta get in that tower, and soon. Daniel, Becky, McKay, you're up. Find us a door, willya?"

"Like he expects us to just wave our hands and say 'Open Sesame', or something," Rodney grumbles.

"Probably not that easy," Daniel agrees. "The Ancients did like their tests."

Becky carefully studies the wall, even pulling out her penlight for more illumination. "There's something unusual about this surface, guys." Tentatively she passes a hand across the material.

McKay all but smacks it away. "Idiot! Do you want the tower to come crashing down on top of us? It could be booby-trapped, for all we know!"

Daniel comes to her side, protectively. "Rodney-"

She holds up a hand. "No, it's okay. I get his concern, even though I don't think it applies here. See, it looks smooth but it isn't. Got a very subtle texture, almost as if..."

"As if what?" Showing less concern as her boyfriend, more shared interest as a colleague.

"...As if they're Ancient letters, though etched small enough so they're not immediately visible. But there's a pattern..." brushing her fingers along the surface. She frowns in concentration, then nods. "Yeah, that's it. Two phrases, repeating over and over again. Anyone got paper and pencil?"

Daniel hands them to her and she places the paper flat against the wall, rubbing with the side of the pencil until the letters are revealed. "Yep," she says with satisfaction. "There they are."

"So what do they say, Beck?" Mac comes up alongside, just as curious as the others.

"_Receperint de póli in terra. Dicere, amici, et eiságete. _Basically, welcome to the City of Earth. Speak, friends, and enter."

"So if you're a friend just speak the password, and you can enter." McKay scowls. "Great! All we have to do is wait a million years or so and eventually it'll come to us. Unless we turn into dinner for direwolves first."

Ford's brow furrows. "I dunno, Dr. McKay. Something about it sounds awfully familiar to me."

"Yeah, me too," Becky admits. "But what?"

The wheels are already turning in Daniel's head. "Approximately 50,000 words in the Ancient language that we know of. As it's similar to Latin we need to multiply by three distinct genders, seven noun cases, five declensions, four verb conjugations, four verb principal parts, six tenses, three persons-"

McKay throws his hands over his head. "That's over 1,500,000 possible passwords! We'll never figure it out in time. Do we have an exit strategy?"

"Do we have a what?"

"Oh my god, we're all going to die."

More howls and yips even louder than before, punctuating the rising sense of urgency.

"Damn, they're getting closer." Jack hefts his P90. "Get a move on with crunching that password, guys. We're gonna need to get inside soon."

A direwolf appears at the other end of the street, growling softly. Then another. Advance scouts for the pack, without a doubt.

Beckett and Zelenka quickly huddle next to Mac and the others. Sheppard, Lorne, and Ford take up secondary defensive positions in front of them but behind Jack, Sam and Teal'c.

Mac swallows, starts checking his pockets. Maybe he can come up with something for a diversion, at the very least...

In the meantime Daniel's been scribbling madly on the notepad. Finally removes his glasses, rubs at his brow in frustration. "Damn, this is hard. Too many possibilities."

"Well, since we're dying," McKay says with resignation, "at least it's among friends."

Becky's eyes widen, then she starts to laugh. "Friends. Of course! Rodney, you really are a genius," slapping him lightly on the arm.

He puffs up a bit. "Well, people have said."

Daniel looks at her as if she's gone nuts. "Um, you okay?"

"Never better." She faces the wall, spreads her arms wide. "_Amici! _"

Nothing happens.

"Darn it. Thought for sure that'd work." Absently she reaches out, touching the wall.

Which lights up, or at least where her hand's resting.

She pulls back, quickly. "What the-"

"Becky, do that again," Daniel says, eyes wide. "But this time say the word as well."

"Right." She places her hand on the same spot. "_Amici_," she whispers. "Oh, please open."

Silver lines appear and spread, slowly outlining a doorway where no crack or seam had been visible before. It divides in two, opening outward. Lights blink on inside, one by one, illuminating a corridor.

"That's my girl." Jack grins, patting her on the shoulder as he takes point. "C'mon, let's get inside before those wolves get any ideas."

"What did you say?" Mac asks Becky as they fall in with the others behind him.

"_Amici._ Means friends in Ancient."

"How'd you figure that was the password, though?"

She grins. "The advantages of being a bookworm, Unc."

* * *

The interior of the tower is airy and light and open. Stark contrast to the rugged appearance of its exterior, even as warm earth tones keep it grounded at the same time.

Rooms and adjoining corridors lighten up immediately as they pass by.

"Freaky," Sheppard mutters under his breath.

Mac can only agree. This place gives him the creeps.

"Interesting," Lorne says after a while. "The architecture's like a mix of Frank Lloyd Wright and Art Deco, with touches of abstract motifs. Almost organic in a way."

"You're into art and design, Major?" Mac asks him.

He shrugs. "I like to paint in my spare time."

Eventually they reach a central hall or atrium of sorts, where Jack calls for a lunch break. Mac easily catches the MRE pouch and water canteen tossed his way and sits, leaning against a nearby wall.

Daniel hunkers down beside him. "Um, hi. Can we talk?"

"Sure."

While they eat the archaeologist picks at his food and steals the occasional bewildered glance at Becky across the way, chatting with Zelenka and Beckett and studiously avoiding him.

"Something on your mind, Daniel?" Mac prompts him gently.

"You've known Becky a long time, right?"

"All her life." He can't help the dry tone.

"Right. Of course." He looks down, scuffing the toe of his boot against the floor. "I honestly thought it made sense at the time. I mean, we're both night-owls, and she's at my place more often now than with you and Jack. So I thought, since that's the case why not make it a permanent arrangement?"

Mac's eyebrows rise. "You mean you proposed to her?"

"What? No! Don't get me wrong," Daniel adds quickly, "I love your niece, very much. But we're not ready for marriage. At least I'm not. Thing is-" He sighs, rubs the back of his neck. "I asked her to move in with me. But I guess she got spooked or something, and now she refuses to talk about it. I honestly have no idea what I did wrong. Could you talk to her?"

Mac blanches. He really does not want to get in the middle of this. Especially when it involves his niece. No way.

Such an anxious look in Daniel's eyes behind the glasses, though. And he likes the guy.

Not to mention he's been good for Becky, and she for him.

"Look, I'm flattered you think I still have any sort of influence over her. But you gotta realize she's more than capable of making her own decisions about things. You've heard the phrase, old soul in a young body?"

"Yeah..."

"That's her. She's always been more mature than others her age, growing up. Independent-minded yet conscientious at the same time, you know?"

Daniel nods. "That's one of the things I noticed about her from the start. And one of the things I like the most about her, too."

"You've probably also realized by now that when she loves, it's with her whole heart and soul."

"Yeah, I have." A fond, almost secretive smile. Probably remembering things about their relationship over the past couple years Mac doesn't even want to imagine.

"So you probably just blindsided her a bit. Be patient and give her time, okay? But don't force the issue, that'd spook her even more."

"I won't. Thanks for the advice, Mac."

"No problem."

"You two done chatting yet?" Jack stands up, wipes his hands on his trousers. "Break's over, people. We can't stay holed up in here forever while those direwolves are outside, so let's talk strategy."

* * *

Becky hates to admit it but she's getting bored just sitting around, waiting for Jack and the others to decide what to do about their situation.

Daniel keeps glancing in her direction but she can't talk to him right now. Not after what he asked her this morning in the lab.

Might as well do some quick exploring on her own. They'll never notice her gone.

A shadowed alcove in a nearby corner catches her eye. With a backward glance at the others she steps inside, her hand brushing against a panel.

Which lights up. A symbol and line of Ancient text appears on its surface: _imperium locus._

Well, why not?

A door closes behind her. An odd sensation, as if moving yet not. Completely unlike a typical elevator.

Within seconds the door opens onto a space roughly hexagon-shaped. The same warm earth tones as the rest of the tower, interspersed with blue panels. A throne of sorts resides on a hexagonal dais in the center of the room.

Panels begin to glow and display information as she passes by. Just like downstairs.

Weird.

Moreover there's a hushed air of expectancy. Waiting for something.

Or someone.

She should be scared- or at least cautious- but for some reason she's not. It's peaceful and quiet here, away from everyone else.

Good. Just what she needs, right now.

She dearly loves Daniel, but living together's an awfully big step in her eyes. Next thing to marriage, for crying out loud. Neither of them are ready for a long-term, permanent arrangement- or so she thinks- but apparently he wants to take their relationship to the next level. Which she finds kinda scary, to be honest.

Might as well sit and have a bit of a think, as her dad used to say. Looks like the perfect place to do it.

Becky steps up onto the dais and sits, short legs dangling like they do on most chairs. Of their own volition her hands come to rest on pads embedded within the armrests.

_~Confirmatus sanguine Alteranus. Imperium sella energopoiiméni.~ _

Her eyes widen. "Who said that?"

The chair lights up, tilting her backwards.

"What on earth-"

_~Nevrikí diepafí dimicent.~ _

Her consciousness is suddenly yanked out of her body, without so much as a by-your-leave.

Dragged down deep, into the bowels of the earth-

-suffocating darkness and pressure surrounding her, a heavy, crushing weight-

-buried alive.

_Oh god-Oh god-Oh god. Not again-Not again-Not again!_

A familiar panic rising, overwhelming her senses-

A warm, soothing voice calms from within. _Be brave. There is nothing to fear. Your body is safe, it's all in your mind._

Be brave. Right.

She can do this. Time to get a grip.

Along with lessons in staff fighting Teal'c has also taught her a form of _kel'no'reem_ over the past couple years. She steels herself, grounds and centers her thoughts. Stilling her mind into a state of receptiveness.

_Hello. I mean you no harm. Can we talk?_

Consciousness expands into the rock surrounding her, patterns and particles of minerals in varying compositions. The orderly matrices of unmined control crystals. The heated flow of lava running like veins through rock. Plasma boiling deep within, keeping the molten iron core of the planet spinning on its steady progress through the solar system.

A sudden shift in perspective. Light, a shimmering multicolored glow, amber and russet and a clear pale gold.

_~ Ave, Domina. Huy-Brasealis est. Gratam te póli sas.~_

_...Come again? _

An odd feeling, like something rummaging around in her mind. Prying into all manner of dusty corners.

_~My pardon, Domina. Perhaps you will understand better this way.~ _A more masculine voice than before, rich and warm. Eerily similar to her father's._ ~I am Huy-Brasealis. Welcome to your city.~ _

_Huy-Braesealis? As in- _

_~Yes, as in a passage you once translated: Huy-Braesealis, astria sto pro oculo prostasía. Quinque pénte puncta energopoiísete.~ _

Huy-Braesealis. Hy-Brasil. Incredible.

_~I apologize for the intrusion into your memories. Your command of Alteran is impressive, but I find it easier to communicate with you in your own language.~ _

_Alteran?_

_~ Also known as Anquietas, or in your language the Ancients. You are of their bloodline, as are your uncles and two other individuals I sense.~ _

Images of Carson and John flash in her mind. Huh. Who knew they all had something in common?

_~I was programmed to awake from hibernation when those with the correct bloodline activate the door and pass through. I have been waiting a very long time for you, Domina.~ _

_How long?_

_~Ten thousand years.~_

_...Wow. That's a long time._

_~Indeed. But now that you have awakened me, we can begin. How may I be of assistance?~_

She can't even begin to wrap her head around this. Ten thousand years!

All that time waiting. And for _her_, apparently.

Bad enough she once bore Witness to the end of the world. Now a whole Ancient city's talking in her head, calling her its Lady.

Just when she thought the universe couldn't get any more nuts.

_All right. First, tell me how to handle the direwolves outside, then we'll figure where to go from there. _

_~As you wish, Domina.~_

* * *

There's something definitely off about this place, John Sheppard decides. And not only because it's an alien city millions of years old where the lights turn on if he takes even one step inside a room.

No, it's this itchy creeping feeling he's got in the back of his head. Like something wants his attention, really bad.

Freaky, without a doubt.

Finally the itch gets to be too much. On impulse he drifts away from the group, towards a shadowed alcove that seems to be calling him in. His hand casually comes to rest on a panel.

Which lights up.

A door closes behind him. An odd sensation of movement. Not your typical elevator, that's for sure.

The door opens onto a room roughly hexagon-shaped, same warm earth tones as downstairs, monitors here and there showing activity. A throne on a dais sits in the center of the room, lighted in the same blue glow as the monitors.

And Becky Grahme's sitting on it, of all people. Leaning back with eyes closed, the slow, steady rise and fall of her chest the only indication she's even alive.

He can't keep his eyes off her. He's come to see her as the little sister he never had, ever since the time he rescued her from the clutches of Lieutenant Albert Norris, still confined to Gamma Base for the foreseeable future.

The radio chirps. "O'Neill to Sheppard."

"Sheppard here. What can I do for you, Colonel?"

"Have you seen my niece? We can't raise her on the radio."

God. What's he gonna say? This place is nuts.

"I'm looking at her right now, sir."

"So what's she doing? Is she okay? C'mon Major, I'm not in the mood to play twenty questions."

"She's fine. She's just...reclining."

"...Reclining?" He can just imagine O'Neill's puzzled expression.

"Yes, sir."

"Is there any way you can stop her from...reclining, Major?"

"All due respect sir, I wouldn't. She's, um, a bit preoccupied right now."

"Preoccupied?"

"Uh-huh."

An exasperated sigh. "Sheppard, where the hell are you and how do we get there?"

He glances around. "Some kind of control room sir, with a throne in the center."

"A throne. In which my niece is reclining."

"Yes, sir. Are you still in the atrium?"

"Yeah. Why?"

"In the northwest corner there's some kind of a transporter with direct access to here. She must've come across it first."

"...Okay, we see it now. Sheesh, it looks cramped. Better make two trips, guys...Hey, that panel just lit up when I touched it. That happen to you, Sheppard?"

"Yes, sir. Not sure why."

"Me, neither. What's it say, Danny? Control room? Must be the place. We'll be there directly, Major. Keep an eye on her in the meantime, willya?"

"Copy that, sir." John sighs and slouches against one wall, crossing his arms.

The whole time Becky's remained unconscious in that damned chair.

She'd better be okay, whatever's going on in her head.

Because he's _so _not looking forward to facing two extremely protective uncles- not to mention her boyfriend- if anything happens to her.

Why, he might even join Norris in exile. And that won't do at all.

* * *

There are some days lately Mac's certain he's back in Los Angeles having the strangest lucid dream ever, the result of watching too many sci-fi movies with Becky.

This is one of them.

He keeps wanting to pinch himself, seeing her reclining in that weird lit-up alien chair while Sam, McKay, Daniel and the others do their thing.

Jack smirks at him. "Nope, you're not dreaming."

"I read the reports, but...I mean, does this sort of thing happen often to you guys?"

"Yeah. Though usually it's Daniel who touches something and gets us into trouble." The archaeologist shoots him a mild glare from where he's sitting on the dais, sketching and making notes of the control room.

Beckett backs away from the chair, tucking a stethoscope and blood pressure cuff back into his medical kit. "Your niece is fine, Colonel. Heartbeat steady and blood pressure normal. Nothing wrong as far as I can tell. Just unconscious."

"Any way you can wake her up, snap her out of it?"

"I wouldn't recommend it," McKay snaps, tapping on a laptop plugged in to the chair. "There's no way of knowing yet how deeply connected she is to the city. Only an idiot would yank her out of the chair right away, if they want to seer her fall into a vegetative state or worse."

Mac blinks. "Connected? You mean this place is talking to her?"

"The chair is really an advanced neural interface," Sam explains from the other side, working on her own computer. "There's a distinct feedback channel going on between her and the city. So yes, it seems they are talking to each other."

Jack sighs. "So the upshot is we have to wait until the conversation's over and she wakes up. Right, Carter?"

"That's basically it, sir."

"Great. Better stand down for a while, campers. She does like sleeping in."

Mac grimaces. Patience has never been his strong suit. He wants to wake her up right now, get her as far away as possible from this creepy place, even though it might make matters worse in the long run.

Most of all he hates feeling so darn useless.

A large, dark-skinned hand rests on his shoulder. "Do not fear, MacGyver. Your _che'sula _is strong for a scholar, and very brave. All will be well."

"Thanks, Teal'c. I appreciate it." Sometimes he wonders if anything's ever rattled the Jaffa. He has a feeling he wouldn't want to be around the guy if it does.

"Hey-" McKay frowns at his laptop. "The readings have changed. There's less activity."

"There is," Sam agrees. "And the feedback channel's disappeared."

The lights on the chair go out as it raises Becky to a sitting position.

Everyone holds back, trading worried glances. Unsure what will happen next.

Finally Jackson comes forward, gently touching her arm. "Becky?"

Her eyes slowly open, blink several times in succession, finally focusing on him. "Daniel?"

"Yeah, it's me. You're safe now. I've got you." As he speaks he enfolds her in his arms, pulling her away from the chair and down onto the floor.

She collapses against him with a low cry, holding him tight. He murmurs soft words of love, his hands caressing her, soothing away her fears. Giving her a reason to reestablish her connection with him and everyone else present.

Nonetheless Mac's filled with a fierce longing to shove him aside, hold her in his own arms. Protect her as he's always done.

As if reading his thoughts Daniel shakes his head and gives him a knowing glance that says, _I know you'd rather be in my place but relax, I've got this._

He nods reluctant agreement, feeling a little pain in his heart as his little girl grows up and away from him, just that much more.

Eventually she pulls away, staring wide-eyed first at Daniel, then everyone else. "What...What happened? What am I doing here?"

"Easy, lass," Carson says, kneeling next to her. "Just want to take a quick look at ye. Follow my finger with your eyes...that's it." He does a few more basic neurological tests. "Nothing appears to be wrong. Though Janet ought to do a couple scans when we return to base, just to be sure."

A collective sigh of relief. Jack wipes at something in his eyes. Mac's have gone a bit misty as well, he has to admit.

She struggles to stand, waving away offers of help. Staggers a bit. "Whoa..."

Daniel quickly wraps an arm around her shoulders. "It's okay. I'm here."

Her brow furrows, as if trying to remember something. "Huy... Huy..."

"What was that?"

"Huy-Brasealis," she whispers.

He frowns slightly, uncomprehending. Then his eyes widen. "You're sure?"

She nods. "That's what it calls itself. The city's sentient, or at least the AI running it is."

"An _artificial intelligence_?" Rodney stares at her in frank incredulity. "Active after all this time?"

"No. Hibernating mostly, until we came along. Our presence woke it up again- mine, and you guys. It...he...has been waiting for us. For a very long time."

Mac raises an eyebrow. "What do you mean, us guys?"

"You, Jack. John and Carson, too."

Such a matter-of-fact tone to her voice, which makes him more than a little freaked out. An AI had tried to kill him once, back on Old Earth. And here he is facing another one, in an Ancient city light-years away from his lost homeworld.

Definitely one of those days.

"Ah!" Beckett's eyes are alight with wonder. "I was right!"

"Your ATA gene theory?" Radek asks.

"Aye. Ancient technology needs contact with someone carrying a specific gene to be activated. Which is most likely why you were the only one who could access the Repository of Knowledge, Colonel."

"Oh, just peachy," Jack sighs.

"Becky, John, Mac, would ye mind if I take a few blood samples from each of you after we return to base?"

Mac shares a glance with them, who both shrug their assent. "Sure, doc. Glad to help."

"Brilliant."

Jack grumbles under his breath about big needles.

Mac chuckles. "Still afraid, huh?"

"Don't you start." He clears his throat, adjusts his cap. "I think we've done enough for now, folks. Time to head back home. You good to walk, Beck?"

Her first few steps are faltering, but the rest are more steady. "Yeah, I think I can manage."

"Terrific. Let's blow this pop stand."

* * *

The direwolves' growls are audible even from inside.

"Wonderful," McKay grumbles. "Probably the whole pack's out there by now."

Jackson reluctantly hefts his own P90, moves to join his team. Jack waves him back. "Stay back with the others. We got this."

"Jack..."

"Daniel." His gaze flicks back to Becky, softens. "Keep an eye on my niece, okay? Right now she needs you more than we do."

"But-" he begins, then sighs. "Okay."

"Atta boy. Remember the plan, people. Push them back enough for us to get through, but fire only if they attack. Don't want things to escalate any more than they have to. Got it?" Murmurs of assent. "All right, move out."

Jack, Sam and Teal'c take point. Mac keeps to the middle with Becky, Daniel and the other scientists. Sheppard, Lorne, and Ford fall back to the rear, prepared to form their own protective circle around the civilians if necessary.

The door swings outwards. A sizeable pack of direwolves waiting as expected, watching them intently.

Mac swallows, wishing he could find something to grab as a weapon if need be. The Ancients left the place remarkably tidy, all things considered. Which doesn't help in the slightest.

"Good doggies. Nice doggies." Jack takes one cautious step forward, then another. "We won't bite if you won't, okay?"

The pack backs up with them, then pauses as their alpha comes forward. A barked command and some of the pack falls behind, surrounding the team.

"We should expect their attack at any time, O'Neill," Teal'c states.

"I hear you, T. But I'm banking they won't unless provoked."

"Unless their alpha gets bored and decides to have us for dinner." McKay's stomach grumbles. Some of the direwolves perk up at the sound. "Whoops."

"For god's sake don't encourage them, Rodney," Carson mutters. "They might be hungry."

"Stow it, you two," Jack warns, his gaze steady on the alpha.

The pack follows their slow, steady progress down the avenue, keeping them surrounded them the entire time.

"What are they waiting for?" Daniel wonders.

"Their alpha to make the first move, more than likely," Mac replies, recalling what he'd learned about wolf pack behavior for a Phoenix assignment. Seems to apply here as well.

The alpha stops, turns to face them. Settling into a crouching position, growling softly.

"Had enough of the game, huh?" Jack raises his weapon. "Look sharp, everyone. When I say run-"

The alpha springs into action with a mighty leap. Jack fires, striking the direwolf square in the chest.

Seeing their leader down does little to discourage the rest, surprisingly. Everyone does their best to fend off the ensuing attack, though bullets and energy blasts prove to be useless as a deterrent, even as many are killed or wounded.

McKay uses the drone to remotely attack the wolves, with varying results until one swats it aside with a massive paw. "This is completely hopeless," he moans. "We're all going to die, I just know it."

"Always the optimist, huh?" Mac grabs at a fallen branch and holds it out in Becky's direction. "Beck, think you can set this on fire?" She fires her zat and the branch ignites. He waves it at the charging wolves, driving them away.

"Time for a strategic retreat, folks," Jack calls out. "Head for the Jumpers!"

Nobody needs to be told twice.

The direwolves follow them through the forest, close enough to be worrisome.

Mac can't shake the feeling they're being toyed with, the thought sending chills up his spine.

One wolf feints from the side, distracting him enough to trip over a tree root. He hits the ground, hard. Grits his teeth at the sudden, shooting pain lancing up his right leg.

"Unc!" Becky hurries to his side. "You okay?"

"I'm fine," he insists. "Go on, get out of here. Don't worry about me."

She scowls. "Absolutely not. We haven't gone through the end of the world together only to lose each other this way. I won't have it. I'm putting a stop to this, right now." She stands, facing the approaching pack head on.

Her defiance absurdly reminds him of the time she got between him and Murdoc, desperate to protect him despite her injuries. "Becky, no. It's too dangerous-"

She smiles at him, oddly serene. "It's okay, Unc. I know what I have to do." She holds her arms in front of her, palms forward. "_Apage!_"

A sound more felt than heard emanates from the direction of the city, echoing through the forest.

The direwolves begin to whine and back away from them, until finally with much yowling and whimpering turn and run off, soon disappearing from sight.

The sound stops, as abruptly as it began.

"_Bohudíky_," Zelenka mutters, wiping his brow. "That was close."

Ford lowers his weapon, blinking in surprise. "Um, what just happened?"

Jack stares after the retreating pack, shaking his head. "Well I'll be doggone, as Harry used to say."

Mac groans as Carson wraps his ankle in a bandage. "Seriously, Jack? That's awful."

"Hey, it's not every day we face down a whole pack only for them to run away with their tails between their legs at the last minute. Right, Beck?"

A faint moan behind him as she slowly collapses.

"Becky?" Daniel catches her before she hits the ground, eyes wide in alarm. "Carson!"

Beckett comes to her side, checks her out. "She's all right, poor lass. Just fainted."

"What the hell was that?" McKay demands. "What did she do?"

"Got the city to produce sound waves or vibrations, at a guess," Sam suggests. "At a frequency too low for us to hear, but obviously enough to affect them." Her eyes widen. "Of course! We could do something similar around the settlement perimeter, as a nonlethal deterrent against the packs."

Mac nods. Her excitement's contagious. "Yeah. A continuous series of transmitters every few meters apart, coupled with detectors keyed to their heat signatures or pheromones or similar-"

"-Individually powered by photovoltaic cells," Zelenka chimes in. "When predators approach, the transmitters go off, emitting pulses of infrasound-"

"-Creating a flexible barrier to keep them away, adaptable to any terrain. Completely doable!" McKay adds triumphantly.

Sheppard smirks, ruefully shaking his head. "Doesn't take much to set 'em off, does it sir?"

Jack snorts his agreement. "You got that right. Hey Teal'c," noticing his friend's struggling with her limp form, "give Danny a hand with Becky, won't you?"

"Do not worry, Daniel Jackson." He takes her, lifting her easily in his arms. "I will convey your mate with the utmost care."

"Um, Teal'c? She's not my mate."

"Not yet." His expression's even more enigmatic, if that were at all possible.

Daniel falls into step alongside his teammate, clearly befuddled.

Lorne and Ford help Mac to his feet, supporting his weight between them.

Jack sighs, slipping on his sunglasses. "C'mon kids, let's get back to base. Been a hell of a day."

The ragtag group- battered and bruised but alive nonetheless- limps their way towards the Jumpers and home.

Another miraculous last-minute save. Mac wonders how long it'll take before their collective luck runs out.

Not for a very long time, hopefully.

* * *

She drifts in darkness. But comforting now, no longer threatening, her claustrophobia long gone.

"Becky? Becky, can you hear me?"

She blinks at the light stabbing into her eyes. "Wha...?"

Janet tucks it away, helps her to sit up a little. "Easy, now. It's just me. You're in the infirmary."

"Where are my glasses? Everything's blurry."

"Here they are." Daniel hands them over, adjusts his own. Offers a tentative smile. "Hey."

"Hey yourself. You okay?"

"Yeah. I have to admit this is kinda awkward for me. Usually I'm where you are after a mission."

"Tell me about it." Jack's straddling a nearby chair, grinning at them. "It's a wonder Janet doesn't charge you rent, for all the times you wind up here."

"Jack..."

An innocent shrug, as if saying, _You started it._ "Hey kiddo. Gave us a little scare, your passing out like that," he says softly. "Especially after saving Mac's life here."

"For which I'm grateful, even if what you did was a bit nuts." Mac beams at her from a neighboring bed, right leg in a fresh bandage and propped up with a pillow.

"Hey, Unc. How's the leg?"

"Better now. Janet wants me to stay overnight for observation, though. You remember what happened?"

"Not really. All I know is, we were being chased by direwolves, away from Huy-Braesealis. You stumbled, and I-" She frowns in thought. "After that it's kind of a blur. What did I do, exactly?"

"Stood up to the whole pack, is what," Jack informs her with a note of pride in his voice. "Sent 'em running off with their tails between their legs. Gotta admit I was impressed."

"But how?"

"You got the city to emit pulses of infrasound somehow," Mac explains, "which we couldn't hear but really bothered the wolves. Gave Sam an idea for a nonlethal perimeter defense of the settlement, though."

Becky blinks, thoroughly and genuinely bewildered. Unbelievable. Why is it she can never remember doing stuff like that? She winces, rubbing her head.

"Headache, huh? Like a whole lot of stuff got dumped into your brain?" Jack asks, sympathetically.

"Yeah. That's it exactly. How'd you know?"

"Been there, done that. Don't worry, we'll keep an eye on you." He shares a significant look with Daniel, who nods agreement.

Janet frowns. "If that's the case we'll get those scans done first thing tomorrow. Right now you need to rest, Becky. You too, Mac."

He grins. "Come by later with some of your special TLC, doc?"

"Just try and stop me. Don't think I haven't forgotten about that rain check."

"Looking forward to it." They gaze at each other happily enough. Downright adorable.

Jack rolls his eyes. "Oh for crying out loud, you two. Get a room, willya?"

Becky can't help giggling. "They've got one already. You're standing in it!"

He chuckles, bending to kiss her cheek. "I'll go see if I can pry Carter away from her inventions for the night. Coming, Danny?"

"Later, Jack. Can't you see I'm busy right now?"

"Yeah. Don't keep her up too late, okay? See you guys later." A cheeky wink as he leaves.

Daniel leans close to her, his expression tender as he strokes her cheek. "Is there anything I can do for you, _colibrì_?"

"Can I lean back against you for a while?"

"Sure." He scoots up behind her on the bed. A soft kiss to the top of her head, gentle, slow caresses down her body. Perfection.

Tears come to her eyes at the sweetness of it all. There's no way she can live without her gorgeous, clever, loving archaeologist. Not anymore.

He might get into trouble someday, with no way to save him. Jack and the others might, too. She's never gonna completely stop worrying about that, every time they go on a mission.

But it's no different than being a teenager, worrying about Mac on his Phoenix assignments. Isn't it?

Anything can happen to them, at any time. Even to her.

Best thing to do is live in the present, and deal with things as they happen. Bless Harry's memory for his sound advice.

Time to take a chance.

"Daniel?"

"Hmm?"

"Yes."

"Yes what?"

"Yes, I'll move in with you."

He looks down at her in surprise. "Really?"

"Yeah. I'm so sorry for the way I treated you earlier. Guess I panicked, a little bit."

"You did," he admits, eyes twinkling with good humor. "But it's okay, I understand. I'm the one who should be sorry. You know you mean everything to me. I didn't mean to spook you like that."

"You mean everything to me too. I want our relationship to move forward, I really do." She reaches up to caress his cheek. "That is, if you're still willing?"

His smile is so warm and genuine- and seen much more often, these days. "Oh, Becky. I was hoping you'd say that. I'm so glad."

"Me too." They share a kiss, slow and sweet yet full of passion. She sighs in contentment, drawing strength from his solid, comforting presence and steady heartbeat.

Slips easily into a relaxed, receptive state.

Something stirs within her mind, but she's not afraid.

Somehow a portion of the city's AI had gotten transferred before the chair released her, tucking itself within a distant corner.

A portion of Huy-Braesealis, the City of Earth.

One of four cities, apparently. Legacies of the Ancients, just waiting to be discovered.

_Are you well? _

_~Yes, Domina.~ _

_You know how to conceal yourself from scans? _

_~Yes, Domina.~ _

Well. They want answers, right? Might as well start at the source.

And there was something she wanted to know about, now that the city's recalled it for her.

_We have much to discuss soon, starting with the Astria sto pro Oculo- the Star in the Eye. I need to know how I can defend my people. _

_~I am at your service whenever you need me.~ _

_Good. Sleep now. _

_~Yes, Domina.~ _The portion goes dormant.

Daniel sighs happily, pulling her closer against his chest. "_Ti amo, colibrì_," he whispers.

"_Ti amo anch'io, corvo. " _She snuggles against him, secure in the knowledge she's no longer alone.

Inside or out.

* * *

_Notes: This chapter brought to you by Google Translate, the Bing search engine, The Fellowship of the Ring by J.R.R. Tolkien (guess which scene for bonus points!) and The Dragonriders of Pern series by Anne McCaffrey. _

_Brief references to S2 E16 "The Fifth Race" and S2 E1 of classic MacGyver, "The Human Factor". Also to Family Resemblance Part II, in my Domestic Adventures 'verse. _

_For translations, see my latest addition to the series posted on A03, A Linguist's Guide to New Earth._


	17. Star in the Eye

_...And that's how it works? _

_~Yes, Domina. The potentias will be ready when you need them. I must point out the system was designed and built but never tested, nor even initialized. I cannot make any predictions as to its operational status.~ _

_Understood. _

_~ I must also inform you my manufacturing capabilities have been brought online for another purpose. This is an automatic process programmed as a contingency and activated as soon as you accessed the chair for the first time.~ _

_So what are you making? _

_~I do not know as of yet, Domina. I will inform you as soon as I do, rest assured.~ _

_All right. Thank you. _

_~At your service, Domina.~ _

Becky slides out of the chair, goes to the one window in the whole room, facing westward beyond the crumbling towers. Visits to the city are easier now, since Sam's infrasonic barrier keeps the direwolves well away.

What they have on this planet isn't much, but it's worth protecting. Once Anubis assembles his fleet and conquers the other System Lords it's only a matter of time before he susses out New Earth's location and attacks. Progress is being made at Alpha Base on the _Prometheus_ and other ships but not nearly fast enough.

Their best hope for protection right now is an untried Ancient system at least ten thousand years old. And something else in the works even the AI's unsure about, of equal vintage.

Still, better than nothing. No other option, really.

Time to get to work.

* * *

Jack fixes his steely gaze on the mountain of files in front of him and wonders if the Ancients had the power to set things on fire with their minds.

Wouldn't mind having that as a superpower. Not at all.

He'd kill for a distraction, even an unscheduled offworld activation or foothold situation. Anything more exciting than paperwork.

A new military configuration on a new settlement on a new planet, and there's still so many damn forms to fill out. All this bureaucracy should've gone the way of Old Earth, for crying out loud.

If he takes over the General-Governorship as Hammond wishes, the first decree he'd make is No More Paperwork, Ever. (Well, that and Cake Every Single Day, of course. Job's gotta have some perks, right?)

The General's been making noises about retirement within the next year or so, stepping down to help his daughter care for his grandchildren, among the first refugees to arrive on the base right after the Big Quake. As his 2IC, Jack's the most obvious candidate for taking over.

He doesn't want to be The Man. He really doesn't.

But he's been groomed to take over since Day Three, Year Zero and there's no one else qualified. Or wants it, frankly. Overseeing the NEDF plus three offworld bases is a tough job, even as part of the settlement's ruling council. Which fortunately isn't as deep into small-minded politics as the IOA was, but still a crushing bore for a man of action like him.

Well, he'll just have to cross that bridge when he comes to it.

Jack squints at the form in front of him, wondering if he should take out his reading glasses. Not that he needs them much but lately he swears the fine print's getting smaller and smaller.

A soft tap on the door. "Yeah?"

"Um, hi. Is this a bad time?" It's Becky, with an apologetic look. Perfect timing.

"Nope, not at all. C'mon in, have a seat." Sweeps everything back into the pile, more than grateful for her interruption. "So how's tricks?"

She hesitates, picking at a seam on her blue jacket (BDUs having been accepted as working clothes for military and civilians alike around the base). "Maybe this wasn't such a good idea," she mutters to herself.

"Hey it's me, remember? You know you can ask your ol' Uncle Colonel anything." Gentle encouragement, always the best tactic to use with his niece.

She takes a deep breath, lets it out slowly. "I need some advice."

"Relationship advice?" Okay, anything but that.

A wry smile. "No, that's Mac's department. Or Janet's, actually." She pauses, lightly taps her fingers together. "See, what I need is work advice. I've got some intel-"

"Thanks to the AI in the chair?"

She squirms a bit, for some reason. "It's within the whole city, but basically, yeah."

"What kind of intel?"

"Nothing I can articulate properly yet. Though I have a hunch it's something big, that could make all the difference for us against Anubis. I need to know how to write it up for a mission. You know, go through the proper channels."

"Really." He has to admit her gut feelings have been pretty accurate lately. (Well, except for when she was certain something bad had happened to Daniel on P2S-4C3, aka Kelowna. Which was a good thing, as it turned out.) "Gotta say I'm flattered you're asking me for advice but why not get Daniel to write it up for you? He's good at military jargonese."

"Because I think I ought to learn how to do this myself. So will you help me, Uncle Jack? Please?"

Such an anxious look in her eyes as she waits for his reply. Not that he could ever deny his favorite niece anything.

He had his own hunch Becky was gonna come to him sooner or later, anyway. It bothers him she got the Ancient stuff downloaded into her brain this time, when by all rights it should've been him.

No one should have to go through what he did, feeling his brain overwritten bit by bit. If not for the Asgards' intervention almost nothing of him would've been left.

However, it's been a month since she first sat in that chair, with no indication so far of the same happening to her. Maybe it's just because she's younger, and therefore more resilient.

Becky's come a long way from the timid teenager at her family's gravesite. Years spent living with his brother have freed and toughened her spirit, preparing her for anything that might come her way.

She seems happy enough working as an assistant but for a while now he's been certain- as confirmed in covert discussions with Daniel- his niece is ready for more responsibility.

Time to take her training to the next level. O'Neill-style, of course.

Yep, perfect timing.

He grins, leaning back in the chair and stretching his long legs out on the desk (time to get comfortable, and damn the paperwork). "Your lucky day, Beck. Just so happens I've got some free time today. Let me tell you a few things..."

* * *

_TO: General-Governor George Hammond, Commander NEDF _

_FROM: Dr. Rebecca Grahme, Dept. of Anthropology, Archaeology and Linguistics, SGC _

_MISSION PROPOSAL: Operation Astria _

_STATEMENT OF PURPOSE: _

_To investigate a combination offensive/defensive system designated Astria sto pro Oculo (Star in the Eye) by Huy-Braesealis, the AI controlling the Ancient city of the same name._

_To assess condition of said system and possible implementation for use in defending Gateway Settlement and environs (Phase 1), initialize (Phase 2) and test (Phase 3) if deemed suitable. _

_PERSONNEL REQUIRED: _

_Colonel J. O'Neill_

_Major S. Carter_

_Dr. D. Jackson_

_Teal'c _

_Major J. Sheppard_

_Dr. R. Grahme_

_Dr. J. Fraiser_

_Dr. M. R. McKay_

_Dr. C. Beckett_

_Dr. R. Zelenka_

_A. MacGyver _

_Lt. Colonel C. Mitchell_

_Major E. Lorne_

_EQUIPMENT AND OTHER ELEMENTS REQUIRED: _

_Two (2) "Puddlejumper" shuttlecraft (Phases 1 and 2)_

_One (1) MALP, one (1) Advanced Sensor Drone (Phase 1)_

_Two (2) F-302s, piloted by Lt. Col. Mitchell and Maj. Lorne (Phase 3)_

_Two (2) structures in upper atmosphere/low orbit for targeting (Phase 3) _

_Technical assistance by Huy-Braesealis (AI) (Phases 2 and 3)_

_Radio set for communications relay between SGC and control room in Huy-Braesealis (city) (Phases 2 and 3) _

_PLAN OF ACTION: _

"Can't sleep, huh?"

Daniel leans against the doorway, blinking sleepily at her behind his glasses, hair tousled. Clad only in boxers, arms crossed loosely. The light from the computer screen highlighting the subtle sheen of sweat on his bare chest.

Such smooth, delectable skin. So soft and warm under her hands. She can just taste the fine salt as she kisses slowly down his body...

Becky gives herself a mental shake. No time to indulge in fantasies. "Sorry, did I wake you?"

"Only when I realized you weren't with me." A kiss to her cheek before peering over her shoulder at the computer screen. "You've been working awfully hard on this proposal, haven't you? Above and beyond what's usually needed for a mission."

"Really? According to Jack doing all this prep is SOP-" She pauses, frowns as a nasty thought comes to her.

He'd been awfully eager to give her advice when she asked the other day. Maybe too eager.

Had he been putting her on the whole time? Her uncle's got a reputation as a trickster, after all. Wouldn't put it past him.

"Unbelievable," she sighs, shaking her head. "I swear, family or no, black ops training or no, one of these days I'm gonna throttle him."

"Oooh, can I watch?"

She chuckles at his eager expression. "You might even want to sell tickets. Maybe if we put our heads together we can come up with a plan to get back at him."

"Sounds good to me." He captures her lips in a deep, lingering kiss, leaving her reeling when he abruptly releases her.

"Um," she says weakly, "that's not what I meant..."

"Oh, I think it is." His playful smile morphs quickly into a concerned frown. "What's wrong? You're not worried about the briefing, are you?"

"Maybe a little." She raises her arms to stretch, wincing at the unexpected tightness in her shoulder blades.

"Hey, you're all tense here. Let me take care of that." Thumbs dig skillfully into the skin. She moans in appreciation of his deft, sure touch.

"God, you're wonderful. How did you get so good at this?"

A low chuckle. "I'll never tell." Long fingers press into another sore spot, earning another soft moan. "You'll be just fine," he soothes. "I have every faith in you. No one's gonna laugh at you, trust me."

"You don't know that. I swear my uncles both think I'm still just a kid. And who'd take me seriously, anyway?"

"Becky, stop it. You've more than earned your place with us, you know you have. And after all the time you've spent in the city since the expedition, no one's likely to question your expertise."

"Yeah, but-"

A caressing finger on her lips silences her. "Nope. No more second guessing. You're done for the night." Ignoring her protests he saves the file and shuts down the computer. Pulls her up from the chair, right against his firm body. A look of desire in those blue bedroom eyes sets her heart to pounding. "Come with me_, hubibi_," he croons. "Let me take your mind off your worries and onto something more...pleasurable, hmm?"

Becky swallows, suppressing a shiver as his voice drops into a husky register. He's not going to take no for an answer. And judging by the knowing smirk on those sensual lips he's also well aware she loves it when he seduces her in other languages.

She glances at the computer and bites her lower lip. She really should get back to work.

He takes her hand, nibbling gently on the knuckles. "_Ahbak ya tayir altanani. Taeal 'iilaa alsarir, _" he whispers against her skin before covering it in more kisses.

Oh, what the hell. The work can wait.

"_Ya gharab_." She lets him lead her to the bedroom.

* * *

Becky takes a sip of water, all she can swallow what with her stomach tied up in knots. Flips through notes, committing the words to memory one final time. Not for the first time wonders why she's doing this solo.

But Daniel has every confidence in her to carry this off. She won't let him down.

The Gate having discharged the contingent from Alpha Base, people soon file into the room, taking their seats at the long conference table. Glances are made in her direction, along with smiles and subtle, encouraging nods or winks. Mac gently squeezes her shoulder as he passes by to sit next to Janet.

A stirring from within. _~Do you need assistance, Domina? I can do the presentation if you wish.~ _

_No, thank you. Go back to sleep. _

_~Yes, Domina.~ _

No need to arouse suspicions.

Hammond enters after the others are seated as usual, acknowledging in genial fashion the salutes and respectful nods. "At ease. Dr. Grahme, are you ready?"

"Yes, sir."

"Then by all means please proceed."

One last look around the room. Familiar faces all, quiet and attentive. A slow wink from Jack.

Right. She can do this.

"Good morning, all. First I'd like to present a little background information on Huy-Braesealis.

"On Old Earth Hy-Brasil- also called the Fortunate Island, as derived from the Gaelic word _breas_, meaning noble or fortunate- was thought to be located generally southwest of Ireland. It appeared on maps from around 1325 to 1865, sometimes confused with the islands of the Azores, or at least enough to inspire the later name for the country in South America. In fact, the central image on the Brazilian flag- a circle with a channel across the center- was the island's symbol on early maps.

"It also had a reputation for disappearing, whether in fog or under the waves, then reappearing briefly once every seven years. But regardless of that the island was rumored to be the home of a wealthy and highly advanced civilization-"

"Similar to legends of Atlantis," Daniel interjects. She raises an eyebrow at him. "Sorry."

"Which brings us to the Ancient city we know now as Huy-Braesealis. Through my connection to the AI via the control chair I've learned of a combination defensive and offensive system protecting not only the city but also potentially the entire valley. Called by the Ancients _Astria sto pro Oculo_, or Star in the Eye-"

Mitchell raises his hand. "'Scuse me, but where's the Eye? I don't see it."

"Daniel, will you please bring up the first image, and rotate it 90 degrees?" He nods, typing on the laptop. On the screen behind her an aerial shot of the valley appears, two mountain ranges running north to south and slightly curving inwards, framing the settlement valley.

As the image is rotated Becky holds her up her hand, curving her thumb and fingers towards each other in imitation, in front of her left eye. "See the shape now?"

Gradual nods of agreement.

"According to the AI the system consists of five activation points- the city itself and four additional emplacements located in both ranges. When properly connected they possess the dual capability to either generate a protective shield over the valley called _aspida_ or combine to form _aktina._ Which is, in the immortal words of my uncle the Colonel," with a wink for Jack, "a big honkin' space gun. Or space ray, in this case."

He beams at her. "That's my girl."

Sam raises a hand. "What's the power source for the system?"

"Each emplacement requires what the AI calls a _potentia_," Becky explains. "There's nothing in our records about it, so Daniel was kind enough to do a sketch and color, based on the AI's description."

A second image appears on the screen. Somewhat cylindrical in shape, consisting of yellowish crystals in a black wire framework with touches of dark brown, burnt orange and green. Rough octagon on the top, red crystal in the center. Resembling a flame shape when upside down, at least to Becky's eyes.

"_Proboha_, Rodney," Radek murmurs. "It...it's-"

"Yes, yes, of course it is!" He leans forward, a gleam of excitement in his eyes.

Everyone else trades puzzled glances.

"So what is it?" Jack finally ventures.

"A ZedPM. Zero Point Module. Obviously."

"Dr. McKay, would you mind elaborating for the rest of us?" Hammond inquires.

He'd rather be doing anything but, judging by his sour expression. "Right. Since they designed the Stargates to be powered by neutrinos the Ancients obviously knew something about quantum mechanics. They clearly knew how to harness zero point energy, which is present at the quantum level when energy's converted to entropy-"

Becky snaps her fingers. "Vacuum energy! When all matter is removed in space energy remains, in the form of particles which spontaneously emerge and exist for fractions of a second before being annihilated by anti-particles."

Everyone looks at her in surprise. She shrugs, a little sheepish. "What? I read a lot of science fiction."

Mac chuckles. "The advantages of being a bookworm, huh?"

Rodney waves a dismissive hand. "Whatever. Since by definition zero point energy can never be depleted, it's theoretically both unlimited and free. Containment units- or Zero Point Modules- were therefore created and used by the Ancients to power all manner of devices."

"Puts the batteries by that ol' pink bunny to shame, huh?" Jack quips.

"Certainly capable of storing and producing much more than even a naquadah generator, sir," Sam concurs. "That makes sense, considering either mode would require a huge expenditure of energy. But where do we find these ZPMs?"

"Oh, that's easy," Becky says. "The city's preparing them as we speak."

Everyone stares at her again, nonplussed by the offhandedness of her remark.

McKay looks a bit put out. "Hmph. Way to bury the lead."

"I'll show you where the city's manufacturing them, and anyone else who's interested. Would that make you feel better?"

He blinks at her, momentarily taken aback. "...Yeah. It would."

"So. Four emplacements, four ZPMs," John says. "Makes sense. But where do we fit into this?"

"According to the AI the Ancients designed and built the system, but never got the chance to initialize and test it before they disappeared," Becky explains. "Each emplacement must be initialized by someone with the ATA gene. The AI also recommends a two-person team, one to activate and another to insert the ZPM, as well as observe and assist if necessary."

"No doubt in case our heads explode or whatever," Jack notes, very dry. "So why the five of us again?"

"I've only taken a small sample of the population so far, Colonel," Carson says, "but based on my tests the strongest expressions of the gene are right here at this table- myself, you and your brother, your niece and Major Sheppard."

"So we're freaks? Now that's just peachy." Becky wonders if she's the only one to hear the fear underlying Jack's voice.

"Lab rats," John mutters with distaste. Mac's frowning slightly now as well.

"Oh come now," Carson protests, his accent thickening, "it's not so bad as all that."

Jack glares at him in misdirected animosity.

Becky groans, inwardly. This isn't how she wanted the briefing to go. Not at all.

Thing is, she can relate. Of course she can.

But now's not the time to dwell, as Jack himself might say. Better to keep on task, regain focus.

She pounds the table hard, only once. That gets everyone's attention. "We are _not_ freaks! We've just got something extra which makes us uniquely qualified to carry out this mission, that's all. Besides," she adds with a wry smile and a gesture around the table, "most of us here are unique, in one way or another. C'mon guys, think about it."

Silence follows as everyone ponders her words.

"She's right, guys," Mac says eventually. "I mean, you gotta admit we're in good company, all things considered." Winks at Becky.

Jack still doesn't look very comfortable with the idea, but at least keeps further misgivings to himself. "Whatever. So once it's up and running, is it gonna need any babysitting?"

"No. After that it should be fully automated, just needing the command to activate when needed."

"But how does it work?" Radek asks.

"I'm not really sure, and the AI never explained. Hopefully you, Sam and Rodney can figure it out."

"So who are in these two-person teams you mentioned, Beck?" Jack asks. There's a twinkle in his eye she can't decipher.

"I'll be making those assignments when the mission's ready to run." Whoops. That sounded presumptuous. Hopefully no one's noticed.

"How about us?" Mitchell indicates himself and Lorne.

"You guys are Phase Three, testing. Using your F-302s to simulate attacks for _aspida_, then releasing a couple targets into the upper atmosphere for _aktina_. Mac, think you can work up something in that regard?"

"Yes, ma'am." he says with a grin. "Might have a couple notions already."

"And afterwards, Dr. Grahme?" Hammond inquires.

"Well, sir, after the initialization it should be ready to use in whichever mode is required, defense or offense."

"Can both be used at the same time?"

"No, sir. Not that I'm aware of."

"How long will it take to prepare for the mission?"

"A couple weeks, by my estimate. Enough time for inspection and repairs if needed for each emplacement and constructing the targets."

"Do you think you're prepared to lead this team?"

Her eyes go wide. She did not just hear what she thought she heard. No. No way.

"Me, sir?" Her voice squeaks a bit. How mortifying.

The General looks amused. "Of course. As you already have so much of this planned out, I see no reason not to put you officially in charge of this mission."

For a moment she feels faint. Maybe because she hasn't had anything to eat yet. Or a sudden attack of nerves.

Many speculative glances tossed her way but to her surprise no objections are raised. Not a single one.

Which is frankly terrifying.

For crying out loud, girl, she tells herself sternly. Buck up. Be brave.

Besides, it'll be fun. She gets to give everyone else orders for a change. Even Jack.

"Yes, sir. I'll do my best."

"That's all I expect, Dr. Grahme. You have a go for Phase One of Operation Astria. We'll reconvene in two weeks' time for final briefing. Dismissed."

Becky keeps herself steady as the others leave, then his words slowly sink in. Her legs begin to wobble.

She swallows, gripping the edge of the table for support.

A gentle touch on her arm and she jumps.

Daniel looks down at her in concern. "Sorry, it's just me. You okay?"

"The General wants me in charge of this mission," she says, faintly. "Me, of all people."

"Well I'm not surprised, considering you worked so hard on the proposal and everything. And you're our liaison with the city besides. Makes sense." If it wasn't for his hand steadying her arm she'd be sinking to the floor right about now.

"I don't know if I'm up to it. I mean, being any kind of a leader. I'm more used to working behind the scenes, you know?"

"Don't worry. You'll do fine, even Jack thinks so. Otherwise he wouldn't have suggested you do all that prep in the first place." A note of surprise in his voice, as if he just realized it.

She frowns. "You really think he set me up for this?"

"Actually I do. Even when he seems to be just goofing off he pays closer attention to things than even I give him credit for. Over the years I've realized there's very little he does without some purpose or plan."

"As opposed to Uncle Mac, who thrives on spontaneity." She shakes her head ruefully. "Unbelievable. No, totally believable. He knew I needed to work everything out beforehand anyway."

And then this. Giving her a shot at leadership.

Which maybe was the point.

She's gotta hand it to her ol' Uncle Colonel. He's crazy, but like a fox more than anything else.

And if he has that much faith in her, then so be it.

She tilts her head, staring up at Daniel in a speculative manner. "You know, I could use an assistant. Think you're up to the task, Dr. Jackson?"

He shrugs. "Sure. Why not? I'll try anything at least once. Besides," he adds with a cheeky wink, "You know how adventurous I am in the pursuit of knowledge."

She grins back. "Now that gives me a few ideas. But breakfast first, okay? All of a sudden I'm starving."

The mission must be a success, there's too much at stake otherwise.

Here's her proving ground. She'll try her hardest to make everyone proud.

No matter what.

* * *

"You really think letting Becky take point is a wise thing to do, Jack?" Mac asks a few days later. "Don't lie to me. I see your hand in this."

Jack hefts a ceramic bottle of beer (he's taken up both pottery and brewing in his spare time). "Yeah. Why not? It's a learning experience. Gives her a chance to spread her wings and gain self-confidence. You worried about her?"

Mac shrugs. "Can't help but be. She's pushing herself too much at it is, burying herself in forms and reports and meetings with everyone, including us. Always been a hard worker, but Daniel says she's burning the midnight oil far more often than usual-"

"He should know."

"Seriously, Jack. He's worried she's gonna burn out before long, and so am I. C'mon, 'fess up already. You don't have to go through all this for real when you prep for a mission, do you?"

He leans back in his chair, stretching out his legs. Regards his twin from under the brim of his cap. "Apart from the tactical and armaments side? Not really. Just between the two of us, usually I kinda piggyback my stuff on top of Carter's or Daniel's. Let them do the heavy lifting, you know? Less stress that way."

"Jack..."

"Look, Becky's doing fine. Taken to this even better than I'd imagined. No one has any complaints. Well, save for grumbles from McKay, but that's nothing new and not even about her. I have every confidence in our niece. You should too, or why else have you been filling her head with those Brave Princess stories when she was a kid?"

"I do, believe me. It's just that-"

"Hey, I get it. You're used to looking out for her. But she's a grown adult now, with abilities and responsibilities all her own. Besides, she's not doing this solo. We've all got her back."

"Yeah, yeah. I know. But still-"

"Watch it, now," Jack admonishes. "You wouldn't want our fearless leader thinking you don't have faith in her or the mission, now do you?"

Mac scowls. "You know, I really hate when you do that. Reminds me of arguments with Mom and losing every time she lifted her finger that way."

"Pretty effective tactic then, isn't it? C'mon Mac, lighten up. You worry too much, always have."

"Can't say as I didn't have good reason back when I took her in." He sighs, running a hand through unruly hair. "Must've been nuts at the time, thinking I could make a halfway decent _in loco parentis_, what with my Phoenix assignments and Murdoc and friends getting me into trouble and all."

"Quit brooding on the past already, willya? You're as bad as Daniel when he gets going." More soberly. "You and Becky did just fine together, you know that. It's because of you she's taking all this wackiness in stride."

"Instead of a more reasonable attitude, like sheer blind terror." A rueful chuckle. "Yeah, I know what you mean. Though Allison always was the more practical one in our family."

"Yeah. Like mother like daughter." Holds up his bottle. "To our big sis. Hope she's getting a kick out of watching over us, wherever she is."

"To Allison." Mac cocks his head, giving him a long, thoughtful stare. "You know, if I didn't know any better I'd swear you're enjoying this a little too much."

An offhanded shrug. "Makes a nice change, let me tell ya. Hey, don't worry about Becky, she's got this. Have I ever steered you wrong?"

"Let me count the ways." Very dry.

"Yeah, sure, ya betcha." Jack takes a final, speculative swig of his bottle. Not great, this latest batch. Yet not too bad either. One of these days he'll get it right. "C'mon, let's see if Sergeant White's figured out how to make decent ice cream yet to go with today's cake."

* * *

So much to do, so little time. Being a leader is harder than she thought.

First up is an inspection tour of the emplacements. Which are all in remarkably good shape, considering they're at least ten thousand years old. Easily accessed by contact with an ATA gene carrier.

One entrance is partially covered with rock from a landslide but the obstruction's soon removed with help from a platoon of Marines ferried in on a second Jumper.

The exteriors are as rough-hewn in appearance as the city's towers. Ragged pinnacles of rock blend in with the rest of the range, save for a perfectly smooth, concave section near the top lined in a familiar grayish metal. Also like the city the interiors are more refined in contrast to the exteriors, largely empty save for a dais with a less elaborate version of a control chair next to a console complete with a slot underneath for a ZPM.

"The concave section's coated in naquadah, but with a different structure to the embedded crystalline matrix," Sam remarks, going over the readings later from both MALP and sensor drone.

"To store and reflect energy." Radek muses, "as in Stargates."

"More like a parabolic reflector antenna. Energy in the form of electromagnetic waves are captured by the antenna and reflected at the focal point. The whole signal therefore remains in phase with no cancellation before moving on to the next antenna."

"And perhaps to intensify before redirecting as well? So by being bounced around it gathers enough energy into itself."

"Exactly. But signals attenuate the longer the distance between antennas, so a lot more power is required to span the valley. Which explains why each emplacement has an additional energy source, to give it a boost."

The next day Becky has John take them to the city to see the laser array mounted in the highest room of the central tower, consisting of a light source mounted in a reflective container and surrounded by a crystal matrix.

"Lasers are created when the electrons in atoms absorb energy from an electrical current or another laser and become excited," Sam explains for her benefit. "The excited electrons move briefly from a low-energy state to a higher one, then when they return to their normal state emit photons with a coherent wavelength and pattern."

"Similar to how lasers were produced back on Old Earth," Zelenka concurs. "Allowing of course for Ancient refinements. Pulses of light excited into a higher energy state, bouncing off the reflective surfaces, stimulating the electrons even more before dropping back to normal. The laser photons are then sent through the crystal matrix which acts as an amplifier-"

McKay sniffs. "Yes, yes, we can already surmise how it works. Really, this is all so basic."

"Yeah, but I'm interested," Becky says with a wink for John. They do like showing off their knowledge. "So what happens next?"

"Well, the photons are bounced back and forth through the crystals, causing more electrons to drop to their lower energy states, producing huge numbers of photons of the same wavelength and direction-"

"Which we see as an extremely bright beam of light?"

"...A gross oversimplification, but yes."

"Most importantly for our purposes," Sam adds, "laser light is directional, and because it's coherent, it stays focused for vast distances. So this system's basically an energy generator and amplifier. This is fascinating!"

Becky grins. "You ain't seen nothing yet. Let me show you guys what's in the basement. It'll really knock your socks off."

A sub-basement, actually, with what turns out to be a completely automated machine turning out ZPMs.

Specialized crystals grow before their eyes from molds, bound onto wire circuitry frameworks. Each module glows with a bright unearthly light for a brief moment before settling down, filled by virtue of a stable micro-miniature wormhole continually opening and closing, bleeding off zero point energy from the void between the stars.

She's glad she advised them earlier to bring their sunglasses.

Rodney's practically drooling. Sam's at a loss for words. Zelenka keeps muttering in Czech.

Even John's pretty impressed, remarking later in offhand fashion he's seen Rodney in such ecstasy only a couple times before this (the smirk accompanying his cryptic words puzzling Becky for some time after until she finally figures it out, and good for them).

Okay, so there are some advantages to being the liaison for an Ancient city, if it means she can show off cool stuff like this.

* * *

Meanwhile in his usual ingenious fashion Mac's come up with a prototype target for Phase Three.

Spheres are built with help from Siler, consisting of frameworks built of a native bamboo-like grassoid, lashed together with duct tape and covered in sheets of shimmering Mylar, one of those inexplicable salvage finds within one of Alvarez's vast storehouses. Lightweight and flexible enough to be towed into low orbit by a F-302. Trials conducted with help from Mitchell and Lorne have proven very promising so far.

Between runs the pilots have exciting stories to tell of aerial dogfights, and Mac keeps them laughing in turn with his flying exploits and mishaps with Jack Dalton.

So progress is being made on all fronts, but all the same Becky's finding herself running ragged. Stroking egos, offering encouragements, making sure people have what they need. Reviewing and signing off on every little progress report and requisition in true bureaucratic fashion, which she ought to be used to thanks to her time at Phoenix but finds frustrating nonetheless.

(How on earth had Uncle Jack and his team managed to save the world on a regular basis and handle all this paperwork at the same time? Talk about stress.)

It feels as if there aren't nearly enough hours in the day to accomplish everything, even with Daniel's invaluable help.

From time to time she wonders just how much more she can take before cracking.

But there's no choice, the fate of the settlement- what's left of the human race, even- is in her hands now. She has to keep going.

Even if it might just push her off the deep end.

* * *

Daniel watches Becky hunched over her desk, poring over reports and diagrams. Taking off her glasses to rub at her face every now and then, muttering under her breath.

She's become much more tense and irritable lately. Barely sleeps. Eats what's in front of her but doesn't take the time to enjoy either the food or the company like she used to. Hardly reads for fun anymore, even.

All very worrisome.

It hurts more than he thought it would, watching his beloved burn the candle at both ends like this. As driven and detail-oriented as he is, turns out she's even more so.

He's never had to do quite this much prep for a mission before, and neither has Jack or Sam. Yet somehow Becky's convinced herself of the need to oversee practically every aspect, no matter how insignificant.

Shades of himself from eight years ago, obsessing over his theories of cultural cross-pollination and possible alien contact in Ancient Egypt. Delving into every minor translation, every insignificant fact. Desperate for meaning, for correlation, for justification. For proof of his sanity, which was hanging by a thread even before his encounter with Catherine one rainy afternoon.

Becky might be headed down the same path if something isn't done.

She's the mirror of his soul and he loves her for it. And for much more, of course. He'd do anything for her.

Which is why he's about to go behind her back a second time, as he did a couple years before. Like then it's the only way he can think of to save her sanity.

As her assistant his job is to ensure her well-being, making sure she has what she needs to carry out her appointed task. Including a much-needed break.

So why does it feel like a betrayal all over again?

He can only hope she'll forgive him. Someday.

She raises a suspicious eyebrow as he grabs his jacket. "Where are you going?"

"Just over to Botany, get some more klahbark to brew from Dave Parrish. We're fresh out. Sure you don't want to come with me, take a break?" Knowing what the answer will be but asks anyway.

"I'm fine," comes the reply, more curt than usual.

Yeah, definitely not herself. Time to have a word with Jack.

Though he also stops afterwards and picks up a cloth filter bag of prepared klahbark from Parrish, because they really are out.

One day, he hopes, they'll find another world with coffee-like beans, but for now _klah _will have to do.

At least it has caffeine.

* * *

Not taking point for once has been pretty fun for Jack. No need to perform any pesky pre-mission prep so he feels as loose and relaxed as if coming back from leave.

He really should delegate more often.

Though now since talking to Daniel he's got this tickling sensation down his spine, a familiar gut feeling telling him Becky's in trouble, or will be soon.

So instead of sleeping he finds himself prowling restlessly around the base the next night, giving everything a quick once-over.

Sergeant White and his crew do dishes and next day's meal prep to the sound of oldies on Radio Gateway. A couple of SG teams suit up for their own missions (the Gate is operational 28/7, after all). Custodial crew tidy up here and there.

Everything's in order, save for lights blazing in one particular building in the lab section.

Becky's slumped forwards with her head resting on her arms, Daniel leaning back with mouth wide open. He'd never tell either of them they snore, but both have this adorable habit of occasionally sighing in their sleep.

Birds of a feather, and all that. He knew they'd make a cute couple.

"Good morning, campers! Up and at 'em!"

No answer. Clearly nothing short of an unscheduled offworld activation's gonna wake them.

Tempting to get whoever's on Gate duty at this late hour to sound the klaxon. But that would cause too much of a ruckus, and the General's not a fan of having his beauty sleep interrupted without cause.

Jack settles for picking up a thick tome from a nearby table. The resounding thump as it hits the floor is oddly satisfying.

"Huh, wha...?" Daniel mutters, taking off his glasses to rub at his eyes. "It can't be morning already, can it?"

"Sorry, Danny. Not yet." He balances atop a corner of her desk, folding his arms. "What a pair of night-owls you guys make."

Becky utters a huge yawn and smacks her lips. Blinking up at him, more than a little befuddled. "Uncle Jack? What're you doing here? What time's it?"

"Time for all good archaeologists and nieces to be tucked in bed, that's what."

"Sorry, gotta stay up." She yawns again. "Can't sleep, not now."

"Yes you can. Or ought to, anyway. Being in charge of a mission doesn't mean you have to be working round the clock, Beck. You really need some rest."

"Later," she insists. "Got too much to do. Everyone's counting on me. Leave me alone."

"No can do, kiddo. Go on, get some shut-eye. It'll all be waiting for you when you get back-"

"I won't go to bed!" She jumps up from her seat, eyes blazing. "You're not my dad. You can't make me!"

He almost stumbles off the desk in shock. She's never yelled at him like that before. Or anyone, for that matter. Ever.

(Mac once commented- with his usual knack for dry understatement- that getting Becky to go to bed at a reasonable hour's the only time he's had to act parental. Jack can understand why, now.)

As it turns out Becky's equally stunned, a panicked look in her eyes as if fixing to run away.

Briefly he wonders if Janet ought to be called in with a sedative.

Nah, better not. Wouldn't do for the others to hear about this. Bad for morale.

Yet what can he do? He's not in charge of the mission, after all. She is.

For the first time ever he has absolutely no idea what to do next.

Fortunately Daniel does, elbowing past him to gather her into his arms.

She tenses at first, then relaxes against him. "Oh god, I think I'm losing my mind."

Jack's tempted to reply with one of his usual cutting remarks, like he does to anyone who pushes themselves beyond their limits without thinking.

Yet he hesitates.

It's his _niece_, for crying out loud. For all they enjoy verbal sparring from time to time he simply cannot bring himself to lay into her now. Not in her fragile state.

Besides, it's kinda his fault in the first place.

He's right about her being ready for leadership, down to his bones. This mission is perfect for her, which is why he convinced the General to give her the chance.

He forgot how hard she'd push herself, though. All the way to the edge.

And Mac had warned him, to be fair. Even as a kid she held herself to impossibly high standards. Sensitive and serious and determined to do well no matter what, be it handicrafts or singing or academia.

Old soul in a young body, as Mac told Daniel last month. Sure got that right.

Daniel's holding her carefully, easing her shudders with a slow hand down her back, murmuring soft words. No doubt seeing some of himself in her, from back in the day.

Usually bright, cheerful and clever, the long hours have taken their toll on the poor kid, judging by the dark circles under her eyes and tight, harried expression. Even her auburn tresses- so much like her mother's- have lost some of their luster, hanging in lank strands.

No wonder Danny and Mac have been so worried.

Best to keep it between the four of them, he decides, lest the others start losing faith at the last minute.

Or Becky loses faith in herself, for that matter.

He's trained to assess the safety risk in every situation as team leader, and right now a severely sleep-deprived niece could jeopardize the entire mission. She's gotta get some balance back.

"Sorry," she whispers to him while still in Daniel's arms, blinking away tears. "So sorry."

He knows she is. Besides, he can never stay angry at her for long. "It's okay, Beck. You just need a break, that's all." He pauses, considering. "Tell you what- why don't you take the next three days off on me? Sleep, read, do whatever you want so long as it's got nothing to do with work. So what do ya say?"

She frowns but Daniel nods agreement after a sharp glance at him. "Good idea, Jack."

"Glad you think so Danny, 'cause you're on leave too. In fact, both of you are under strict orders not to report on base until Tuesday. Got it?" He lifts his finger, forestalling her protest. "I'm serious, now. Your place, the refectory or one of those music concerts around town you guys like. Nowhere else. No side trips to the city, either. That's an order."

"Tuesday? But that's mission day," she protests. "We're not ready-"

Daniel clears his throat. "Um, actually we are."

She gives him a skeptical look. "Really?"

"Yeah."

Becky looks ready to complain- several times- but decides against it. Finally her delicate shoulders slump in defeat. "Fine. Whatever. You win."

"That's my girl. C'mon, let's blow this joint." Briskly ushering them out of the lab and back to the residential square.

Daniel lets Becky in then lingers outside. "She'll be fine, Jack. I'll look after her."

"Know you will. Thanks for the heads up. I'd honestly forgotten she'd take it so seriously."

"Not your fault." He pauses. "Have to admit it was fun, being her assistant. She's really good, even if way too focused on details at times."

"Sounds familiar." Very dry.

A crooked smile. "Yeah, guess so. Still think she's ready for more responsibility?"

"Yeah. Learning experience, remember? She'll know better than to stretch herself so thin next time."

Daniel nods. "I think so too. She'll do just fine on Tuesday."

"I know she will. Everything's ready, then?"

"Paperwork's already been sent to Hammond for his approval."

"Without her signature? Or did she already sign it and just doesn't remember?"

"Well, sort of." A sheepish shrug, rubbing the back of his neck. "It was already typed up and everything. Just kinda sneaked it by her. I won't do that to her again, I promise."

"Better not." Jack frowns as a thought comes to him. "Wait a minute. Isn't that how you passed all those unnecessary requisitions for more books and stuff by me in the past?"

There's that shifty expression Daniel's so good at. "Wouldn't exactly call them unnecessary, but yeah..."

"Figures. That's blackmail material, you know. Don't be surprised if I hold it over you in return for a favor sometime."

"Whatever, Jack." An eloquent roll of his eyes.

It's kinda nice to just stand there for a while, taking in the stillness of early morning. Quieter and more peaceful now with the direwolves kept away by Sam's infrasound barrier.

"Daniel?"

"Yeah?"

"Thanks for looking out for her, when..." A vague wave of his hand.

"Of course." He pauses. "I love her, you know. More than I ever thought possible, after losing Sha're. I'd do anything for her."

"Yeah, I know."

They share a significant look, meaning in team-specific nonverbal communication _We shall never speak of this again_.

Jack's mouth widens in a huge yawn, surprising himself. "Whew, guess I'd better turn in. Night, Danny. Don't let the bedbugs bite."

A sly smile briefly crosses the archaeologist's lips as he glances in the direction of the bedroom. "Oh, I'm sure some biting will occur. Night, Jack."

The door shuts firmly, leaving him a little perturbed by the slightly salacious words.

Not that he's ever minded their relationship. How could he, when he practically encouraged it right from the start?

Probably a good idea to let them have their space, all the same.

Or better yet issue the same orders to everyone else on the team, since they've all been working so hard. No exceptions.

A sly smile comes to his own face as he thinks of Sam. Who knows what fun they might get up to, with three whole days of downtime?

Mission day should be interesting.

* * *

Becky's half asleep when Daniel enters the bedroom. Lying as usual on her left side in only her underwear, glasses on the nightstand.

Which is a relief. For a moment he'd been afraid she'd insist on staying awake on principle. She can be just as stubborn as Jack, sometimes. Or his brother. Like uncles, like niece.

At least she sides with him on arguments. Most of the time, anyway.

Daniel removes his own glasses and strips down to his boxers. Spooning behind her, right arm curving around her waist. Tucking his head next to hers he breathes in her scent- books and chocolate, sea spray, lavender and jasmine.

Delicious. Mouth-watering.

He wants to cover her in kisses but it'd be better to let her rest for now. Pleasure can wait until later.

She stirs a little, her left hand coming up to stroke his arm. "Sorry about earlier," she whispers into the darkness.

"Sssh. Don't worry about it." Drops a kiss into her hair. "Sweet dreams, hummingbird."

"You too, raven." Falling instantly into a deep sleep.

As he told Jack, he'd do anything for her. Which is why going behind her back is both the easiest and hardest thing he's ever had to do. And he's done it twice now.

Hopefully he'll never have to again.

* * *

_SOP= Standard Operating Procedure._

_Brief references to S2 E16 "The Fifth Race" and S5 E21 "Meridian", though that never occurred in this AU._

_Again, for translations and explanations of certain concepts please see A Linguist's Guide to New Earth in my Ad Astra 'verse series, on AO3. _


	18. Unity

Morning light leaks into the bedroom around the curtains.

Becky opens her eyes, yawns and stretches, reveling in the firm, warm- and very male- body cuddling her close, his scent surrounding her. Natural and musky, leather, books and ancient, sun-warmed stone.

Delightful.

Three days have gone by awfully fast. Plenty of sleep and food, concerts and sweet lovemaking and just lazing around reading, enjoying each other's company. Every minute spent together memorable and satisfying.

In the state she'd been last week she would've gone completely nuts, which in retrospect wouldn't have been good for the mission at all. Thank god for Jack's timely intervention, though she now owes her uncle an awful lot of favs.

She sighs in satisfaction, wanting nothing more than to stay in bed with her beloved the rest of the day.

"Morning," he breathes softly into her neck, accompanied by tender nibbles and licks. A delicate, arousing touch. She leans back, smiling as she becomes aware of him stirring, in more ways than one.

Oh yeah, staying in bed together is definitely on today's agenda.

"Morning. Sleep well?"

"Mmm-hmm." Soft, moist lips leisurely move along her neck, drifting down onto her shoulder. "And you?"

"Oh, most definitely." She turns to face him. Their lips meet, all sweet and warm and comforting. An unspoken desire for more.

How lucky she is to have her clever and talented raven as a lover. For a fellow shy geek he's got some impressive skills in seduction which he's patiently taught her many times, to their mutual satisfaction.

Hands trace patterns, words and hieroglyphs over each other's bodies as they kiss. No translation required since they all have the same meaning: _I love you._ Shared passion between linguists is the best, Becky's sure.

She sighs in dreamy content, eyes closing as they rest against each other, heads just touching. The intensity of their connection keeping the rest of the world at bay.

Perfection.

"So," Daniel murmurs, "are you ready for today?"

Her eyes fly open. "What about today?"

"The mission, remember? Final briefing's in a couple hours."

Oh, yeah. Mission day. Right.

"Um, I guess."

He cocks his head, regarding her with wry amusement. "That doesn't sound very convincing."

"Guess I'm still kinda nervous." She pauses. "Can't believe I broke down like that in front of you guys. It's embarrassing."

"There's nothing to be ashamed of, Becky. You'll learn to manage things better next time, that's all."

She scoffs. "If there is a next time."

"There will be. I'm sure of it." Gentle, reassuring caresses that warm her heart.

He's been her faithful assistant, her steadfast support the entire time, as she tries to be for him. It's the least she can do for her handsome archaeologist.

"You think Jack will ever forgive me for yelling at him?"

"Sure. I yell at him all the time and we're still friends."

She can't help the wry chuckle. "True. How about us? Are we good?"

"We're good." His lips brush against hers, linger on her cheek. "So, ready to get out of bed?"

"Not yet," she admits. "Feeling a little tense, you know?"

"Is that so." He purses his lips, considering. Sly mischief twinkles in his eyes. "Well, I happen to know of an ancient and very reliable cure for reducing anxieties. Proven to ease all kinds of tension."

God, she loves it when he's like this, playfulness mixed with passion. "By replacing them with ones of a more carnal kind, no doubt."

"Oh, yeah." Hot, open-mouthed kisses laced around her neck as long, clever fingers deftly tease her in places that soon reduce her body to a delightful quivering state of anticipation.

"Well since you put it that way," she says with a wicked smile as her smaller hands linger around his most sensitive spots, making him gasp and squirm a bit. "Are you sure this miracle cure of yours can ease _all_ my tensions before the briefing, Dr. Jackson? I've got ever so many."

"I guarantee it." His lips close on hers.

* * *

It's been the best idea Jack's had in, well, ever.

There's a spring in people's steps, easy banter traded across the table as the team gathers for the briefing. Looks like the downtime did everyone a world of good, what with that obvious glow from attentions paid by loved ones.

Not something generally expected during a mission, he has to admit. This taking a back seat thing is proving to be pretty interesting so far.

Becky enters with Daniel, clearly in much better spirits than a few days ago. She stops in her tracks, tensing slightly. He follows her gaze, smiles and murmurs reassurance, gently pushing her in Jack's direction.

She hesitates nonetheless, worrying at her lower lip a little. "Hey."

"Hey yourself."

"Um, look, I'm really sorry about-"

He waves it off with a smile. "Don't worry about it, kiddo. We're good."

"Really?"

"Yeah, really." Gives her a playful nudge in the direction of the opposite end of the table. "You're up."

Sam frowns, a little puzzled by their byplay. "Something happen between you two last week, sir?"

"Just some uncle-niece stuff, Carter. Nothing that concerns you. Heads up, here comes the General."

Hammond enters, nodding at salutes and deferential greetings alike. "Good morning, all. Dr. Grahme, if you're ready to proceed with the final briefing?"

"Yes, sir. Thank you." The quiet confidence is back in her voice. "Daniel, can you please bring up the second image of the valley, the one with the dots?"

Same horizontal orientation as before on the screen, this time with five points indicated in red, three on top and two on bottom.

She picks up a laser pointer. "The top is the eastern range, the bottom west. The red dots indicate the emplacements with the city in the center top. After everyone's in place the AI will direct the city to generate an energy beam, sending it first across the valley to here-" the dot on the lower left, "then to there-" sweeping the pointer to the upper right, "then over to here-" to the upper left, "and afterwards down to there-" to the lower right, "with a final boost back up to the city." A five-pointed figure is outlined in laser light as she speaks.

Cameron snaps his fingers. "The Star in the Eye!"

She nods. "Exactly. As we found out the emplacements are essentially parabolic antennas designed to receive a laser beam and bounce it back and forth, creating a feedback loop amplifying the beam's energy. Judging by our initial assessment the emplacements looked fine but if any problems occur they have to be fixed right away before the beam discharges. So our timing has to be pretty accurate."

"Makes sense, but how do we communicate?" John asks. "Our individual sets don't have enough reach to go all the way across the valley."

"That's why we're setting up one of the longer range radio sets in the control room, using the base as a repeater."

Jack raises his hand. "So who are in those two-person teams you mentioned last time, Beck?"

"You and Sam will be in the northwest emplacement, Mac and Janet in the southeast. Carson and Radek, you'll be in the northeast, and John and Rodney, the southwest. Daniel and I will of course be in the tower's control room." Nods all around the table, no one disputing the pairings.

"And my duty, Becky Grahme?" Teal'c inquires.

"You'll be in the control room with us on the radio, relaying status updates and other information. And you guys," with a nod to Mitchell and Lorne, "are gonna help us put the system through its paces in your F-302s."

Cameron grins. "Sure will, thanks to Mac's spiffy targets."

Becky leans forward intently, locking her gaze with each one onf the team in turn. "Look, I don't need to tell you guys how important this is. Our survival as a settlement may very well depend on making this work, and we only have one chance to do it right. Are there any questions?"

Not a single one. Everyone knows what they have to do, thanks to her extensive prep.

Hammond nods in satisfaction. "I can see my confidence in you has been well placed, Dr. Grahme. You have a go for the next phases of Operation Astria."

"Thank you, sir. We'll try not to disappoint."

"I'm sure you won't. Good luck, all of you. Dismissed."

The room breaks up. Daniel's hand comes to rest on the small of Becky's back, a light, reassuring yet intimate touch. He bends to whisper in her ear and she laughs, a soft tinkling sound. Her blue eyes sparkle as she beams up at him.

Back to normal.

Good for her. He knew she could pull this off.

Definitely his best idea. Ever.

* * *

The control room lights up as usual at Becky's presence as she enters with Daniel and Teal'c. A quick glance at the monitors shows all systems active and ready.

Outside the window the Jumpers take off, one heading north, the other south. Both now including two ZPMs apiece as part of their precious cargo.

She turns away to face the room, biting her lower lip. Daniel's crouched on one side of the chair, connecting it to his laptop with a specially-adapted cable. Teal'c settles himself on a folding stool in front of the radio, talking to the base in his usual deep, measured tones.

She takes a deep breath, the morning's confidence vanishing. The past couple weeks were easy, in comparison. This is another level entirely.

Too late to back out now, though.

Eventually the reports start coming in, one by one:

"O'Neill and Carter, in position."

"MacGyver and Fraiser, in position."

"Beckett and Zelenka, in position."

"Sheppard and McKay-"

"For the record let me say this is a terrible plan and it's going to blow up in so many awful ways, I just know it."

"Hell of a time to bring it up now. Why didn't you say so at the briefing?"

"Didn't want to upset her. I mean, she's obviously worked hard on this, not to mention letting me see that wonderful, sexy machine in the sub-basement."

"Why Rodney, one might almost think you're fond of her." She can practically hear the smirk in John's voice.

"I wouldn't say fond. I don't not like her, okay? There's a difference. Can we get on with this, already?"

"...Sheppard and McKay, in position."

"Becky Grahme," Teal'c informs her after contacting the base. "General Hammond says we can proceed when ready."

"Right." Sits down but instead of leaning back she hunches forward, hands rubbing nervously on her thighs.

This is it. The moment of truth.

Time to see if she's got what it takes to be a leader.

Yeah, right. Who's she kidding, anyway? She's not cut out for this.

All of a sudden it's too much.

She swallows hard, mouth going dry. Panic rising within, breath coming out in quick, ragged bursts. Heart pounding faster.

In a flash Daniel's kneeling in front of her, cupping her face between his hands. "It's okay, Becky. I'm right here. Look at me. Take deep breaths...that's it." His voice soft and soothing, keeping her grounded.

"I'm scared," she whispers.

"There's nothing to be afraid of. I'm with you every step of the way."

"As am I, Becky Grahme," Teal'c adds. "O'Neill and General Hammond have placed their confidence in you to lead this mission. I believe you are worthy of their trust. You will not let them down."

Such calm certainty in both their voices, she can't help but take heart.

Daniel kisses her gently then steps back, his hand lingering in hers. "Better now?"

"Yeah. Thanks."

"You're welcome. _Kun shjaeana ya hubibi_." A gentle squeeze before releasing her.

Okay. She can do this.

A few more deep, calming breaths, then she settles further back into the chair, her hands resting on the arms (for some reason it actually seems to fit her better, these days). Closes her eyes and slips into a familiar receptive state.

Contact.

The AI shimmers in her mind, amber and russet and a clear pale gold.

_~ Connection established. Ave, Domina.~ _

_Hello, Huy-Braesealis. How are you? _

_~ I am well, thank you. I have been looking forward to this day. Are we ready to begin?~ _

_Soon. How will I know everyone's in place? _

_~You will, I assure you.~ _

_All right._

A moment of stillness, calm before the storm.

Here goes nothing.

* * *

Daniel watches with trepidation as the chair lights up and tilts Becky back. He's putting on a brave front for her sake but inside harbors all manner of doubts. Ancient technology's something of a double-edged sword after all; there's still so much they don't know about it yet.

He frowns, thinking of Jack and his exposure to the Repository of Knowledge. How helpless he felt watching his friend slowly lose his mind, bit by bit.

Before leaving the base Janet and Carson insisted she wear a wireless monitoring patch over her heart, as an extra precaution while she's under. He checks the readings on his laptop, a separate window from the data coming from the chair. Everything normal, as far as he can tell.

Good thing he's not the only one looking out for her. Jack would never forgive him if anything bad happened to her on his watch, to say nothing of his brother. Not that he'd blame them.

Hopefully this level of exposure won't cost his beloved her sanity in the long run.

Or her life, for that matter.

He gives himself a mental shake. No time to let his mind wander now. They have a mission to complete. The work comes first, as always.

_Keep your feet on the ground, Danny. _

So her mind can be in the stars. Or in the earth, or wherever she goes when she's under.

* * *

One by one they come online as they sit in the chairs. A sense of surprise, then gradual acceptance of the link-

-not enough to complete the connection, however.

Without hesitation she reaches out. Touching adjacent minds, drawing them in, binding them together-

-completely laid open to each other, an onslaught of memories, hopes, dreams, fears-

-every good or bad quality, for better or for worse-

-loves them for all of it, even while struggling to remain afloat herself in the sudden tide, almost drowning-

_Easy kiddo, we got you._

-an upwelling of friendship, support, approval, trust-

-bearing her up again-

-almost but not quite enough, one more component needed-

-earthy and warm yet cool and logical, a reservoir of endless patience and willingness to serve-

-and now it's enough.

_~ Connection complete. Astria sto pro Oculo is active and ready to initialize, Domina. ~ _

_Give me a status check on the emplacements, please. _

_~All in full functioning order. The laser awaits your command to fire once the potentias are installed.~ _

_Very well. Okay folks, listen up. Give me a go/no-go for initialization. Jack and Sam? _

_Go. _

_Mac and Janet? _

_Go. _

_Carson and Radek? _

_Go. _

_John and Rodney? _

_Go. _

_Daniel? _

_You're doing fine. Go. _

_Huy-Brasealis? _

_~All calculations made and double-checked, Domina. Recommend a go on your command.~ _

_Teal'c, inform base we are go for initialization. _

_I will do so. _A pause._ General Hammond says to proceed when ready. _

_All right. On my mark insert ZPMs. Five...four...three...two...one. Mark! _

_ZPMs inserted. Consoles activated. _Three sets of voices.

_Hold on. Ours isn't activating. _

_What's wrong? Look Rodney, if we get the timing wrong on this- _

_Working on it. God, the wiring's a mess. The Ancients obviously had idiots for engineers. _

_Ten thousand years too late to complain. Sam, can you help him out? _

_Rodney, I'm looking inside my own console right now. {sending image} Does this help for comparison?_

_...Yes. Yes, it does...okay, I think that's it. Ah, that's much better. Console activated. _

Power thrums under her fingertips, just waiting to be unleashed.

_Okay folks, here we go. Huy-Braesealis? Fiat astria. _

_~Yes, Domina. Firing laser.~_

A flash of light, gaining in strength as it bounces around the reflective surface of the emitter, amplified through the crystal matrix-

-and she becomes the beam, shooting across the valley to Jack and Sam in the northwest-

_Hey, kiddo. Come here often? _

_Hey, guys. How's it going? _

_Never better. Ready to move on? _

-to Mac and Janet in the southeast-

_Just like catching and throwing a baseball. Having fun, Beck? _

_Oh yeah. How about you two? _

_Having the time of our lives. See you later._

-over to Carson and Radek in the northeast-

_There ye are, lass. _

_You guys all right? _

_Aye, we're fine. Time to go on now. _

-then down to John and Rodney in the southwest-

_Hey, little sister. _

_Hey, big brother. All good? _

_We're good. Ready for the big push? _

-a massive surge of power back to the city-

_Welcome back, hummingbird. I've missed you. _

_Missed you too, raven. Huy-Brasealis? _

_~Here, Domina. The Astria sto pro Oculo is now primed and ready. You may proceed with testing.~ _

_Very well. Huy-Brasealis, activate aspida. _

_~Yes, Domina.~ _

Outside herself now. Floating in the center of the star, bathed in blue light.

Touches every point simultaneously-

-eleven distinct minds, linked together as one-

-intelligence, compassion, curiosity, friendship, awe, optimism, creativity, loyalty, kindness, hope-

-and above all else love-

-weaving it together into a protective shield encompassing the valley.

_Teal'c? Go to the window, please. Be our eyes. _

A star outlined in beams of shimmering blue light. Gradually expanding, transforming into a clear dome, fragile in appearance, like a soap bubble yet infinitely more resilient.

_Good. Tell the base we're ready to proceed with the next phase. _

"Huy-Brasealis to base."

"Go ahead, Huy-Braesealis."

"Phase Two is successful. Inform General Hammond we are prepared for the first part of Phase Three."

"Copy that, Huy-Braesealis. Base to Snakeskinners One and Two, you have a go."

"Copy that, base. Commencing attack run." Mitchell's voice.

_What do you see now, Teal'c? _

Two F-302s swoop down from the sky in attack formation. Bullets and energy beams are harmlessly absorbed by the impenetrable shield.

_Get a load of that, folks. Is that sweet or what? _

_Indeed, O'Neill. _

_The shield's not even weakening. Which can't possibly happen, right? How is that happening? _

_It's the naquadah coating on the antennas, Rodney. Absorbing the energy generated by the attack and replenishing the shield with it at the same time. _

_What goes around comes around, huh Carter? This is so cool. _

"Snakeskinner One to Base. Test is successful. Repeat, shield test is successful. Awaiting orders to deploy the targets."

"Copy that, Snakeskinner One. Base to Huy-Braesealis. General Hammond says you may lower the shield now, but delay firing the ray until the targets have been deployed into orbit."

"Understood."

_Huy-Braesealis, deactivate aspida. _

_~Yes, Domina.~ _

The shield disappears.

A surge of elation, a sense of accomplishment.

_Man, if that's what the shield does I can't wait to see the big honkin' space ray in action. Let's fire it up, already._

_Not yet, the targets have to be released in low orbit first. Patience is a virtue, remember?_

_{smirking} Yes, ma'am._

"Snakeskinner One to base. Targets have been deployed into low orbit and now drifting into position."

"Copy that, Snakeskinner One. Base to Huy-Braesealis. General Hammond says you have a go to proceed."

_Everyone ready? _

_Ready. _

_Huy-Brasealis, activate aktina. _

_~Yes, Domina.~ _

The laser fires again, bouncing between the five points even faster than before, generating more and more energy-

-until each point emits its own beam of light, suitably augmented with the additional energy stored in the naquadah coating of the antennas-

-converging right on her in the center.

Shudders rock her body, as though hit by lightning multiple times.

_Janet, can you double-check these monitor readings for me? They're worrisome. _

_You're right, Daniel. Becky, are you okay? Your pulse and blood pressure both spiked for a moment. _

_I'm fine, all that energy hitting at once just startled me a little. Got it under control now. _

_Are you sure, lass? Do we need to abort? _

_No, Carson. I'm good. _

_First target's coming into range, Becky. _

_Thanks, John. Okay folks, let's do this._

Drawing on different feelings than before for this mode. Strength, honor, power, determination, courage, a fierce desire to protect what they have left-

-combining the beams together into a single huge, pulsing ray-

-propelling it up through the atmosphere towards the target-

-which explodes in a brilliant burst of actinic light. Shredded Mylar, duct tape and bamboo-like splinters rain down upon the planet, which immediately burn up upon reaching the atmosphere.

_Holy Hannah! That's amazing. _

_You said it, Sam. Second target coming into range, Becky. Fire at will._

Another burst of energy, another spectacular explosion and shower of debris.

_Sweet! Now that's what I call a big honkin' space ray. Becky, have I told you lately you're my favorite niece? _

_Glad you approve. What are the ZPM levels now, Rodney? _

_Drained by about a third. The energy collected in the antennas are completely depleted, however. No way they can fire a third time without needing to be recharged. _

_So we only get two shots per charging. Better than nothing, right? At least we know the system works now. _

_Oh yeah, it works._

"Snakeskinner One to base. Targets destroyed. Repeat, targets destroyed. And how!"

"Copy that, Snakeskinner One. Base to Huy-Braesealis. General Hammond sends his compliments on a successful operation. You may return to base when ready."

"Understood. Huy-Braesealis out."

_The mission has been accomplished in a most impressive manner. I believe it is time to return to the settlement and, as O'Neill would say, 'cool off our heels.' _

_I think you mean 'kick up our heels,' Teal'c. But I agree, it's time to celebrate. _

_Me too, Jan. Gotta admit this was pretty fun. My kind of mission. How about you, Sam? _

_Couldn't agree more, Mac. The Prometheus should be online soon, but now we have another means to defend ourselves. _

_And we didn't blow up after all! I have to admit it wasn't an entirely unpleasant experience. _

_High praise coming from you, Rodney. I second that emotion. _

_I third it. Neuvěřitelný! _

_Aye, it was wasn't it? Well done, lass. _

A general feeling of satisfaction in a job well done. Warm approval.

_Aw, thanks guys. And thanks for your help too. Yours as well, Huy-Braesealis. _

_~My pleasure, Domina Turris. Might I recommend that it remains active in aspida mode for the time being, in light of your current situation? The potentias have more than enough capability to leave it running until the threat is resolved.~ _

_Very well. Reactivate aspida. _

The laser fires and the shield reforms, without anyone's intervention this time. As easily as that.

_All right guys, show's over. Let's go home. Jack, mind giving us a lift back to base? _

_{chuckles} On our way, kiddo. Sit tight. _

One by one the others drop out of the link, until only Becky and the AI remain.

_~I am pleased the Astria sto pro Oculo performs according to specifications, Domina. I believe the original designers would also be pleased.~ _

_Glad to hear it. Thank you again for your help. _

_~My pleasure. I am ever at your command, kidemóna Nova Terranus. Until next time. ~_

The chair returns her to an upright position, the lights going out.

A gentle touch on her arm. "Becky?"

Her eyes slowly open, blink several times before focusing on her beloved. "Daniel?"

He grins, relief replacing anxiety. "Yeah, it's me. You okay?"

She tilts her head, considering. "Yeah. Yeah, I am."

"I'm glad." He enfolds her in his arms, pulling her away from the chair. "I was so worried for a second."

"I know you were." She holds him tight. He murmurs soft words of love, his hands caressing, soothing.

"Becky Grahme, Daniel Jackson," Teal'c says after a while. "O'Neill is here with the Jumper. It is time to return to base."

High time indeed.

It's an odd sensation, to be all alone in her head again. It'll take some getting used to.

* * *

Becky frowns as the base comes into view. "Why is everyone outside? What's going on?"

Jack smirks at her from the pilot's seat. "Doesn't surprise me a bit. After the little light show we put on I'm betting it's the talk of the settlement."

"Oh god," she groans. "Just what I need to hear."

The Jumper settles on the landing field outside the Stargate hangar, Sheppard landing his craft right beside theirs.

As the team emerges impromptu cheers and applause arise from the assembled personnel. Becky flushes, hangs back. "Um, you guys go ahead, okay?"

Knowing smirks and grins are exchanged between everyone else. "Nothing doing, Beck. You deserve this. Step up to the plate already." With a hand on her shoulder Jack gently nudges her ahead of the group in the direction of the waiting General.

Oh, what the hell. Have to admit it was kinda fun, leading this motley crew. Wouldn't mind doing it again sometime.

He nods to her as she approaches. "Dr. Grahme."

"General Hammond," nodding her respect in turn. "Mission accomplished, sir."

"Well done." A rare, warm smile. "Well done indeed."

"Thank you, sir," lifting her chin and standing up straighter. She's had more effusive praise when younger- from singing to gifting her handicrafts to getting good grades in school- but right now those simple words mean more to her than anything she's ever heard before.

Doesn't need to reach out to the others behind her to feel their collective approval, either.

Her heart soars. Now she truly feels one of the SGC. Like she's doing her part.

Like she belongs here.

* * *

The post-mission party's held the following night. Laughter and snatches of song around the firepit in the center of the residential square, along with occasional clinks and raising of Jack's latest brew and Ferretti's homemade _grappa_.

Ever since the settlement's earliest days people have been coming together on even the slightest pretext. To celebrate the fact they're alive for another day, and reassure one another they're not alone in the universe.

Tonight's party seems more festive than usual, however. But there's good reason, Daniel muses as he tips his head back to regard the faint rippling shimmer overhead, visible sign of an active shield in place. To be raised or lowered at the command of the _Domina_ of Huy-Braesealis sitting next to him, laughing hysterically at the antics of Jack and Sam's impromptu swing dance.

A successful mission indeed, yielding a significant measure of protection. Couldn't come at a better time considering the latest intel.

Anubis' fleet is surely coming for them now, after decimating his rival System Lords. The SGC and New Earth are all that stands between him and galactic conquest.

Daniel gives himself a mental shake. No use worrying about a future that isn't here just yet. It's time to party down, as Jack might say.

A nearby table practically groans with the weight of rich plentiful food, courtesy of the refectory. Sergeant White and his staff have come up with every kind of snackable delight possible for the celebration, using a combination of edible native ingredients and Old Earth adaptations.

"My stomach's rumbling," Becky idly remarks. "You hungry?"

Daniel glances at her from his book (introvert habits die hard, and he knows she's carrying one in her jacket as well). "Sure."

"I'll get us some food. Be right back."

She slips out of the chair which is occupied almost immediately by McKay, settling in for an intense discussion with Sam. He irritably waves away Becky's protests when she returns with a full plate, not even sparing her a glance (Sam does though, with a sheepish, apologetic shrug).

"Problem?" Daniel innocently inquires.

She grimaces. "No place to sit now, thanks to Rodney."

"Yes, there is."

"Oh yeah? Where?"

He sets the book aside and smiles, holding out a hand. "Here."

"Well since you put it that way." Sliding right onto his lap, which is where he intended her to be all along. Fitting together so easily, as if made for each other.

He sniffs appreciatively at the plate in her hand. "Mmm, I'm hungry."

"Then you'd better have something before it gets cold." She picks up a tidbit, offering it to him.

He takes a careful bite, briefly catching her fingertips between his lips. "Delicious," he murmurs, making sure with a sultry look he's talking about more than just the food.

A corner of her mouth turns up in a wry smile. "You're nuts."

He only smirks at her in reply, picking up a piece from the plate and feeding it to her. She reaches out to caress his cheek before leaning in for a sweet, lingering kiss.

"_Je t'aime, mon corbeau._"

"_Je t'aime aussi, ma colibri._"

McKay glances at them, rolls his eyes. "God, you two. Get a room, already. And what's with bird names as endearments, anyway?"

Becky smirks at him. "None of your business, Rodney. Now shoo," making a waving motion with her free hand. He huffs and puffs a bit but complies.

Mac immediately takes his place, stretching out his long legs. "Man, thought he'd never leave. So Beck, how'd you like being in charge for once?"

"Not bad, all things considered. Gotta admit I enjoyed giving out orders for a change. Especially to Jack." Both he and Daniel chuckle. "Guess I need to do a better job figuring out a work/life balance, though."

Mac nods. "That'll come with practice. You'll do just fine next time."

A derisive snort. "If there is a next time."

"Oh, there will be," Sam chimes in. "I'm sure you'll have plenty of missions to lead in the future, Becky, and not only concerning the city. I hear General Hammond's going to offer you a permanent position on the ruling council as well."

Becky gapes at her. "You're kidding. Me?"

Daniel nods. "The system's so integral to our defense now, you should have a voice on the council. And you're our liaison with the city besides. It's time for you to take on more responsibility."

She moans, dropping her head on his shoulder. "Oh god, no. I'm _so _not ready for this."

Mac chuckles. "Yes, you are. Time to come into your own, Beck. And even if you have problems, don't worry. We've all got your back."

"You do?"

"Of course we do," Daniel reassures her with a gentle caress. The modest flush he finds so endearing tints her cheeks.

Jack balances on top of a rather unsteady chair, tapping a fork against the bottle in his hand. "Attention, folks. First off I'd like to say thanks for coming tonight. While I usually just get together with my team after a successful mission I thought it only fitting to include the rest of you guys, considering what we accomplished together and all," gesturing upwards with more enthusiasm than caution, almost falling off the chair.

"Oh for crying out loud Jack, control yourself why don't ya," Mac suggests in a lazy drawl. A ripple of laughter through the crowd.

"Yeah, sure, ya betcha. And now it's time for our fearless leader to say a few words-"

Becky utters a soft moan, trying unsuccessfully to hide against Daniel's shoulder. "Oh please god, no."

Sheppard and Mitchell start clapping and whistling, yelling "Speech! Speech!" She throws them a baleful glare and they grin back, unrepentant.

Grinning himself Jack comes over, yanks her up and away from Daniel's lap, practically carrying her back to the chair. "C'mon, kiddo. Your many admirers are waiting."

She groans. "Do I really have to?"

"It's what leaders do, Beck. Here, let me warm 'em up for you. Any of you guys heard the one about the Goa'uld, the Nox and the three-legged stool? See, there was this Nox-"

Boos and catcalls from Mac, Daniel and Ferretti drown him out, to everyone else's amusement.

Jack chuckles. "Okay, Beck. Your turn."

She rolls her eyes, leans over to him. Daniel's just close enough to hear her say, "You and your damn tricks. But thanks for giving me the chance to prove myself anyway."

He grins and pats her shoulder. "Glad to help, kiddo. Proud of you."

She faces the crowd, takes a deep breath. "Okay. Well, all I can say is I really appreciate the help of each and every one of you in carrying out this mission. I couldn't have done it without you. And I humbly apologize if I was too tough a boss on anyone."

"No problem, little sis," Sheppard calls out. "You can lead us anytime."

She ducks her head. "Yeah. Right. Anyway, that's it." Sergeant White and a helper carry a huge sheet cake to the table and she grins. "Though I do have one final order. In the immortal words of my uncle the colonel here," winking at Jack, "let them eat cake!" The group roars its approval.

He beams at her. "That's my girl."

* * *

Past midnight now, the summer night big and quiet, soft lavender light trickling through the curtains.

The bedside lamp illuminates the cream-colored pages of Daniel's journal as he writes. One of his favorite nighttime rituals even as a boy, a way to organize his thoughts at the end of the day. Put everything in perspective.

A soft sigh beside him from Becky, curled on her side facing him, hair all mussed with sleep and wearing one of his faded university t-shirts.

So much power within such a deceptively delicate frame. And yet she persists in thinking herself perfectly ordinary.

She's going to have an extraordinary ordinary life from now on, he's sure.

Daniel's secretly in awe of her though he tries hard not to show lest it freak her out. Being able to touch other minds with ease, with the unlimited power of a city ten thousand years old at her fingertips.

The Ancients obviously could do more with their minds than Ascension, so perhaps the ATA gene carries potential for psychic ability as well. Not that Jack or his brother have shown any signs themselves but to date she has the strongest expression of anyone, according to Carson.

Maybe the ability's been active in her the whole time, albeit at a very subtle level. It would explain her reliable gut feelings or the bond she shares with her uncles. Even his connection with her since Seattle, though he wouldn't trade what they have together for anything.

With a shudder he recalls the Harsesis, Shifu. All that terrifying power in the person of a little boy, the son of two Goa'uld hosts. Even in a dream the temptation to use it was almost too hard to resist.

(And besides, isn't it said the road to hell is paved with good intentions?)

He wonders how easy it would be for her to become like one of them, in the name of protecting New Earth. Would Jack be willing to take down his own niece for the greater good?

Could Daniel handle having to choose between her and the settlement, if it came down to him? Is that a choice he's even prepared to make?

He has no idea, but already he's lost one beloved at the hands of those vain, spiteful alien parasites. He won't lose another to Ancient technology and unpredictable psychic talents if he can help it.

"Penny for your thoughts." Becky's voice startles him, as soft as it is for the late hour.

"Sorry, did I wake you?"

"Nah. Couldn't sleep. Too keyed up after the party, I guess." She sits up, leans against his shoulder. "Have you always kept a journal?"

He nods. "Since I knew how to write in full sentences, it seems. I was pretty precocious as a kid."

"So was I. Never could get the hang of it myself, though."

"Really? I find it hard to believe, as articulate as you are."

She shrugs. "Go figure. Too hard to write in one left-handed, you know? And it just felt so awkward, trying to consciously put my thoughts down on paper. Besides, my handwriting's lousy."

"As bad as Jack's?" Recalling his friend's rather messy scrawl.

A wry smile. "Okay, maybe not _that _bad. Nothing I'd like to inflict on future generations, though." She pauses, her gaze turning inward. "Ever since we got back from the city I've been thinking about this..." vaguely waving her hand, "this talent I apparently have. Reaching other minds. How easy it would be if I wanted to force people to do things against their will, you know? I could turn into one of those awful Goa'ulds if I'm not careful." She shudders.

"I've been wondering the same," he admits. "But I don't think you'll ever become like them, Becky. Not at all."

"You really think so?"

"I do. Hey, would I lie to you?" Giving her his best wide-eyed innocent expression, which makes her laugh.

He caps the pen, setting it and the journal aside on the nightstand, placing his glasses on top. Turning off the light he faces her, one arm sliding easily around her waist as they snuggle together against the pillows, heads just touching. "So proud of you," he says softly, playing with a strand of hair before tucking it behind her ear. "My beautiful Lady of the Tower."

"God," she groans, rolling her eyes. "Don't you start."

"Why not? It's what the AI called you. _Domina Turris_."

"Because it freaks me out, that's why. People keep staring at me, even on base. Some even bow to me, for crying out loud. Bad enough they already think I'm some kind of a prophet because I was a Witness. But now?" She grimaces. "The idea of me being considered divine in any fashion makes me sick to my stomach. I mean, do I really look like I should be worshiped or something?"

He's secretly relieved at the aggravated tone in her voice. A good head on her shoulders, as Jack might say. No need to worry about Goa'uld-like delusions of grandeur from her.

He takes her hand, kisses it reverently. "Every inch of you, and as often as possible." Lips trail up her arm, along the shoulder up to her neck. He lingers at the pulse point, feeling the life beating there.

"You're nuts." She says it fondly, winding her arms around his neck, running fingers down his scalp in a way that sends shivers through him. "To be honest I'd rather be worshiping you."

"Maybe we need some mutual divine inspiration then, hmm?" Their lips meet, warm and tender. "Love you."

"Love you too."

Then no more need for words, only a sweet giving and receiving of their shared passion for one another.

Afterwards Daniel cradles Becky in his arms, both of them spent and replete. Feeling grateful at the remarkable turn his life has taken. How lucky he is to have found his soulmate, between the end of one world and the beginning of another.

He can't imagine life without his jewel-bright, quick-witted hummingbird. So comfortable together, almost like a married couple (and might as well be for real, after a surprise native ceremony on PX7-248 to Jack's infinite amusement).

Which isn't a bad idea, now he thinks about it. They do seem to keep each other grounded.

But he won't bring it up anytime soon. It's only been a month since she moved in, after all. Wouldn't want to spook her any.

Besides, he's content with things as they are. Thriving in each other's company. Loving and working side by side. Being there for his beloved as much as possible, as she is for him.

Savoring the calm before the coming storm.

* * *

_Notes: Quick references to (once again) S2 E16 "The Fifth Race" and S3 E10 "Forever in a Day". For translations of phrases and explanations of certain concepts please see A Linguist's Guide to New Earth on AO3._


	19. Battle of Gateway

"Wow," Jack says softly, awestruck. "Would you look at those."

"I know, right?" Becky feels a quiet satisfaction. It doesn't take much to impress him these days.

They lean against the catwalk railing, staring out into the shadowy depths of a giant underground chamber easily the length of two football fields. Tall racks of weapons stretch out into the darkness, row upon row of what vaguely resembles Old Earth squids or jellyfish, albeit in a futuristic streamlined sort of way: three feet long with rounded yellow heads and small spikes jutting out to the rear, culminating in a silvery base with six long tendrils trailing behind.

Below them machines work on assembling the latest batch. No clue where the components are coming from but presumably they've been in storage for millenia, just waiting for the manufacturing program to be activated.

"You know, when you told me this morning you wanted some uncle-niece time I had no idea you were gonna show me something so cool."

"Huy-Braesealis told me the city was working on something, but had no idea what it was until yesterday. He thought you might want to see this."

"Thoughtful of him. So what did you call these earlier?"

"_Arma pabula fucus_. Drone weapons, basically. Apparently an automatic program implemented this as a contingency as soon as I accessed the chair for the first time."

"Gotta love those contingencies. We should have outings like this more often."

"Maybe we should." Becky looks askance at her uncle, studying his profile. Familiar rugged good looks, lines on his face comprised of laughter, concern and years of holding in secrets that don't need to be anymore. Brown hair fading quickly to silver. Left eyebrow bisected by a faint scar, one injury among many over the course of his long career in the Air Force.

He catches her looking, smirks. "Not too bad for an old guy, huh? Got anything else you wanna show me?"

"As a matter of fact, yes." Across the catwalk is a platform with a console and chair similar to those in the Astria emplacements. "Have a seat," keeping her voice as casual as she can. "Huy-Braesealis wants to say hi."

His brow furrows. "Why?"

"Because he thinks you ought to be in charge of the drones."

"And not you?"

She shrugs. "I'll have my hands full with the _Astria_. Besides, you're the one who's good at strategy and tactics. Sit down already. It won't hurt."

"Easy for you to say," he mutters but sits anyway. The chair lights up and tilts him back. She wonders if Daniel's ever felt this anxious when she goes under.

A sudden noise behind her makes her jump. One of the nearby drones glides out of its hexagonal cradle to face her, forward section glowing a soft yellow. It approaches her, forcing her to retreat until she finds herself bumping against the railing.

It nudges gently against her, tendrils waving slightly in the cool air. Looking for all the world like a cat wanting to be petted.

She gives an awkward pat to the surprisingly warm surface. "Um, good kitty?"

As if satisfied it backs away and slots neatly back in its cradle, going inert.

The lights on the chair turn off, raising Jack to a sitting position. His eyes open and he smirks at her, eyes twinkling in mischief.

She folds her arms and glares at him. "Not funny."

"Really? Not even a little? Thought it was pretty cute myself."

"Not even a little. So how was your chat?"

"Not bad. Might've been imagining things but he kinda sounds like your dad."

"Yeah, I noticed. Guess he picked it up from my mind during the initial contact. So he filled you in on the specs?"

Jack stands up and stretches. "Oh, yeah. Showed me a simulation and everything. These suckers pack more punch than any ballistic missile I've ever seen. Real sweet. Lots more precise than the _aktina_, too."

"Which makes sense, considering that system was intended for defense only. These are more for offense than anything else."

"I like that, shield and sword. Good thing ol' Huey-Braiser is on our side, huh?"

"That's Huy-Braesealis," she corrects him absently.

"Always a stickler for detail, aren't ya?"

"Details are important," she informs him in an arch manner. They grin at each other.

And then the absurdity of it all hits like a ton of bricks. So much so she starts to laugh, with a note of hysteria.

He raises a quizzical eyebrow. "Hey, you okay? I mean, you're not goin' nuts on me or anything, are ya?"

"Might as well be, all things considered. Three years ago I was happily working for the Phoenix Foundation, and my biggest concerns were if Mac would ever pop the question to Nikki Carpenter and what you'd do with yourself when you retired from the Air Force for good. Now I'm living on a different planet somewhere in the Milky Way and taking part in its defense, just by sitting in a chair and thinking about it."

"Does sound pretty wacko, when you put it that way."

"You said it. Never once imagined it'd happen to me for real, you know? That I'd be part of something bigger, even on a cosmic scale."

"Believe me, I know exactly what you mean. Gotta admit you've taken to all this a lot better than I expected. I'm real proud of you, Beck." He kisses her on the forehead and she flushes as usual at the praise.

Talk about weird. A well-earned family reputation for being notoriously reticent yet here they are, having what amounts to a heart-to-heart deep below a city thousands of years old.

Ironic that it's taken living on another planet and participating in its defense alongside to get to know him better. She's heard the rumors around the base, classified things he did before the Stargate Program that make even the most battle-hardened Marines look at him obliquely.

The awe in their voices not all that dissimilar to how those at the Phoenix Foundation spoke of Mac's talent for improvisation and his luck at survival, now she thinks of it.

Becky's proud of their accomplishments but at the same time grateful she knows them differently, as the sweetheart uncles who cheered her up and provided endless comfort and support when she needed it most. They still know her better than anyone else, including Daniel. And they love her anyway.

In return she's become fluent in reading the various flavors of their stoicism (the more distant or closed-off, the worse the physical or emotional pain) and keenly aware she's one of the precious few to be granted access beyond their self-imposed shields, as if entrusted with part of their souls. Even though it might be because she's the sole blood relative left, it's nevertheless an honor. She tries hard not to betray that trust.

These days people are speaking of her in the same fashion, calling her Witness and Lady of the Tower (her beloved raven can't keep a secret) with reverence in their voices, like she's especially blessed or something. For the life of her she can't figure out why, since both times were the result of pure happenstance.

All she's ever wanted is to live a quiet, peaceful life on a new world, working behind the scenes while others save the day. It's not like she asked to be saddled with a Destiny, for crying out loud.

Strange universe they live in, without a doubt.

"Lost in your thoughts again, huh?"

She blinks in surprise, looking up at Jack's knowing smirk. "Um, yeah. Sorry."

"It's okay. I'm used to it with Danny. Really appreciate the outing, Beck, but we oughta get back to base now. Man, the General's gonna be tickled pink when he hears about this. We need all the help we can get against Anubis once his fleet gets here."

"Do we ever. Gotta get to work on a whole lot of translating, anyway. And I need to fortify myself with cake before tonight's council meeting. Especially if Williams is gonna be there."

"The guy behind the Witness Society thing?"

"Yeah, a real nutjob. Gives me the creeps."

"So all that talk's not going to your head then, huh?"

She makes a face. "God, no. I don't mind people believing as they please, but I'd really rather it didn't involve me. You'd think folks have better things to do than worship me as some sort of prophet or savior, you know?"

"I hear ya, kiddo. It's sad but some are used to seeking irrational explanations or solutions to their problems instead of relying on their own common sense. Can't tell you how many civilizations I've seen out there convinced the Goa'uld are literally gods just because of their glowing eyes and impressive tech."

"I bet. Reminds me of a quote by Arthur C. Clarke."

"You mean the one that goes, 'Any sufficiently advanced technology is indistinguishable from magic'?"

Becky smirks, tilting her head up. "You know something, Uncle Colonel? You're smarter than you look."

He puts a finger to his lips and winks. "Let's keep it between ourselves, okay? Wouldn't be good for my reputation if word ever got out, you know."

She chortles softly, patting him on the arm. "Don't worry, your secret's safe with me. I know you enjoy playing the dumb flyboy."

"Pretty perceptive yourself, for my favorite niece."

"I better be." As dry as Jack himself can get, though her lips twitch in amusement.

He laughs and gives her hair an affectionate ruffle. "C'mon, let's get outta here."

* * *

"So in conclusion, sir," Major Alvarez says at the council meeting, "the emergency shelters are ready to use in case of attack or natural disaster, barring a few refinements here and there."

"Thank you for your report, Major," Hammond says from his seat. "That's excellent news. Is there any other new business?" Silence greets his words. "Then I declare this meeting adjourned. We'll reconvene in one month, barring any significant developments. Thank you for your attendance." He bangs the gavel on the table.

Becky stands and stretches, looking forward to nothing more than a hot shower, late supper and some serious cuddling time in bed with her beloved archaeologist.

A stirring from within, unusual after being dormant for months.

_~Domina? I'm detecting an issue with the aspida.~ _

_What is it? _

_~The potentia in the southwest emplacement has been losing energy at an unexpected rate for a month now and is nearly depleted.~_

Great. All this time keeping them safe and now this.

_Will it explode? _

_~No. But the aspida is about to deactivate, as a safety measure.~ _

_There aren't any redundancies in place to keep the shield active during repairs? How is that possible? _

_~I regret there are none, Domina. I did inform you the system had never before been tested. The designers had no idea this would become a possibility.~ _

_Yes, you did. And I failed to take it under consideration. I'm sorry. _

_~No apology necessary. I recommend bringing Major Carter or Dr. McKay with you, as either one has the technical knowledge to perform a repair. You will also need to bring another potentia with you. I can have one manufactured if you like. ~ _

_No, I know where we have a spare. That'll save me an extra trip. Thank you anyway. _

_~Of course.~ _A pause. _~Domina, the aspida is now deactivating.~ _

Shouts of surprise and alarm from outside the building.

Becky sighs. Talk about timing.

_All right, I'll see if I can get Sam to come with me in the morning. Thank you for alerting me. _

_~At your service, Domina.~_

"Dr. Grahme. A moment of your time, please?"

Becky steels herself before turning to face the one man she's been trying to ignore throughout the evening. The Rev. Stuart Williams, florid and pot-bellied with a receding hairline. Former minister of a suburban church outside of Colorado Springs, who apparently underwent a religious conversion after hearing her speak at the Memorial.

A perpetual pain in the neck, not to put too fine a point on it.

"Reverend Williams." She always tries to keep her tone formal and distant, in the hopes of discouraging him. It never works.

"I was hoping you might say a few words at the Witness Society meeting next restday. It would be a shame if another opportunity passes by without reaping the benefits of your wisdom." The ingratiating tone makes her stomach churn.

"Look, for the last time I have absolutely no interest nor desire to participate in anything you've got set up. I happened to become Witness by pure chance, nothing more. It doesn't make me any sort of prophet."

Williams' unctuous smile and the fanatical light in his eyes set her teeth on edge. "Divinity moves in mysterious ways, my dear. You've been granted a vision, like the prophets of Old Earth. I have faith all will be revealed in due time. Good evening, Dr. Grahme."

Becky resists the impulse to splutter as he strolls off. The guy's absolutely nuts.

"I see what you mean about giving you the creeps." Jack comes up to her, hands casually in pockets. He'd been shadowing Hammond during the meeting, and she envies the way he'd managed to look both interested and bored at the same time. Obviously a talent he'd acquired over the course of many briefings.

She'll have to ask him to teach her the knack, one of these days.

"You don't know the half of it. Hey, can I borrow Sam and one of the Jumpers for a while in the morning?"

"Don't see why not. What's going on?"

"Apparently there's something wrong with the southwest emplacement."

He frowns a little but doesn't ask how she knows. Smart man. "Noticed the shield was down. That's the one McKay had trouble with during initialization, right?"

"Yeah. I need Sam to check out the console."

"Sure. I'll let her know."

"Thanks. Make sure she brings the spare full-power ZPM she's got in the lab along with the toolkit and computer and meet me at the Jumper pad around 0930, okay?"

He cocks his head, amused. "You sure like giving orders these days, don't ya?"

"I learned from the best," she quips lightly. "Don't worry, I'll make sure Aunt Sam gets back to you safe and sound."

"Now Beck, you know she's not your aunt." Jack says it sternly but with a decided twinkle in his eye.

"Not yet, anyway." She smirks right back at him and he chuckles.

"Mind if I tag along?"

"Nah, you don't have to. Shouldn't take us long, anyway. What you ought to do is stay here and study up on swarming behavior, to control those drones effectively. Now escort me home, Colonel, if you please."

He grins, offering his arm. "Yes, ma'am."

* * *

"McKay didn't do too bad a job, all things considered," Sam comments, her voice echoing from deep within the console. "Though a few wires are still crossed here and there. Luckily there wasn't a power surge during the testing phase."

"I'll refrain from pointing that out next time I see him," Becky dryly remarks. "He'd go ballistic if he knew you had to fix one of his quick fixes."

"Oh yeah, it'd be like correcting one of his equations. He'd have a heart attack for certain."

"Can't believe he called you a dumb blonde once. That must've made you mad."

"I'm used to it, unfortunately. Some men can't help but feel threatened by both my intellect and the fact I'm a woman in the military with a successful career as an officer. Believe me, I've faced off against far worse than Rodney McKay's insults."

"I just hate the thought of others putting you down despite all your accomplishments."

"That's just the way it is, Becky. I try not to take it too personally."

"I don't think I could, if I were in your shoes. I mean, it's not only the insults that bother me, but also the ignorance and small-mindedness behind them, you know? Good thing we've got a second chance to ensure that doesn't happen any more to anyone else."

"Absolutely. We can always hope for better." Sam pulls away from the console, closes the lid and replaces the depleted ZPM with the fully-loaded spare from the lab. The console lights up and she consults her laptop. "Looks good so far, I think we've got it. Why don't you see if you can reactivate the shield from here?"

"Sure." She sits in the chair, slipping into a familiar receptive state.

Nothing.

_Huy-Brasealis? _she inquires within.

_~Apologies, Domina. I regret to inform you the aspida can only be reactivated from the primary control chair.~ _

_Understood. Thank you. _

_~At your service, Domina.~_

"Any luck?" Sam asks when Becky opens her eyes.

"Nope. Can't do it from here. We'd better get to the city."

"Right." Sam collects her toolkit.

Becky picks up the carrying case for her, now containing the depleted ZPM. Once outside the emplacement she pauses to take in the view of the valley from the landing ledge.

The southern edge of the settlement is just barely visible off to the northwest, farms scattered here and there around it. The Hammond River leisurely wending its way through the center, the eastern range a dim smudge in the distance.

Reminds her powerfully of the valley where she grew up in Oregon. Probably why she feels more at home on this alien planet than most, even after three years of acclimation.

There's a touch of warmth in the air as well, native flora and fauna showing signs of life after their winter dormancy. Spring on New Earth.

Almost time for the Awakening festival in a week, akin to the Lunar New Year back on Old Earth. Nice to have something to celebrate after months of cold and dark. Should be fun.

"Nice day, huh?"

"Sure is. Thanks for coming with me. I like spending time with my favorite future aunt," grinning at her.

Sam chuckles. "Don't get your hopes up. I mean, I really enjoy being with Jack and all but we're not talking marriage anytime soon. Besides, what about Janet?"

"Her, too. Nothing says I can't have two favorite aunts, right? Hopefully Mac will work up the nerve one day to pop the question. And if Jack ever does-"

"You'll be the first to know, I promise."

"Thanks. I just want you guys to be happy, that's all. You're so good for each other. I'm really looking forward to you being my aunt as well as a friend."

Sam gently squeezes her shoulders in a little hug. "I'm looking forward to having you as a niece too. Now let's head to the city and get the shield back up."

"Absolutely. Jack said he'll hide both the blue and green jellos if I don't have you back on base by lunchtime."

"We'd better hurry then. That's a serious threat, coming from him. Remind me to tell you sometime about an AI on P4X-884 who got us to do some crazy things, like eat every dessert on base."

"Name of Urgo, right? Bet he drove you guys right up the wall."

"Oh, you've no idea..."

Uncle-niece bonding is important. But so is spending quality time with a prospective aunt, too.

* * *

The Jumper's three-quarters across the valley when the radio crackles to life. "Base to Jumper One. Jumper One come in, please."

Her hands busy at the controls, Sam nods at Becky in the copilot's seat to answer. "Jumper One here."

"What's your location, Jumper One?"

"En route to the city, to finish repairs on the shield."

"Change of plans, Jumper One. Return to base immediately. Repeat, return immediately. Direct order from General Hammond."

"Copy that, base. On our way." She shares an uneasy look with Sam, who shrugs and obediently turns the shuttlecraft away from the mountains.

A sudden shiver tickles along Becky's spine. This is it. Anubis and his fleet are here.

If only they could've gotten the shield up first.

* * *

The conference room's packed. Jack has no idea why the General's called this urgent meeting with everyone but his gut feeling says he should cancel his fishing trip with Mac in the afternoon.

Daniel comes up beside him, followed by Teal'c. Becky and Carter appear in the doorway, regarding the room with thinly-veiled apprehension.

Jack waves them over. "Got the shield working yet?"

"Yes and no," Becky grimly replies. "The console's working fine but apparently it can't be reactivated from the emplacement, only the main control chair. We were on our way to the city when the call came in. What's going on?"

"We'll soon find out," nodding over at Hammond by the doorway talking to an aide before coming to his customary place at the head of the table, briskly acknowledging everyone's salutes and nods.

"Ladies and gentlemen," he begins without preamble, "a short time ago Goa'uld vessels have been detected emerging from hyperspace near the edge of the solar system. At their current speed we should be expecting the first wave of attack within the next few hours."

A ripple of unease throughout the room. He lifts his hand and it subsides. "We've known this day would come for some time. There are already procedures in place and you've all participated in countless drills for this contingency."

Sam raises her hand. "Sir, what about the _Prometheus_?"

"As far as we know it's en route from Alpha Base via hyperspace. Until it arrives we'll have to depend solely on what defenses we have immediately to hand."

"What about the shield, sir?" another voice calls out. "It's been down since last night. We've all noticed."

Becky flushes slightly and looks down at the floor, as if it were her fault somehow.

"Our liaison with the city has that well in hand," he says smoothly. "Everyone report to their assigned duty stations to begin final preparations. I am confident we can meet this challenge as we have with every other we've faced before and after Zero Hour, with courage and a determination to protect our new home with everything that's in us. Dismissed."

As the rest of the room disperses he gestures Jack and Becky over. Carter, Daniel and Teal'c hang back with varying expressions of curiosity. "Dr. Grahme, how soon can you get the shield back online?"

"As soon as I can get to the city and in the control chair, sir."

"And you have control of the drone weapons, is that right Colonel?"

"Yes, sir."

"Very well. Please head for the city with the rest of your team in all due haste. It is vital we have those defenses in place when the fleet arrives." An airman comes up to him with a clipboard. "Good luck, both of you," he adds in dismissal before turning to the business at hand.

"O'Neill," Teal'c says unexpectedly. "I would like to stay behind and assist in the defense of the base."

"Fine by me if you think you can do more good here than with us, T. Let me tell ya though, you don't know what you're missing."

"I can surmise. I would merely be a superfluous circular object, of no immediate usefulness."

Becky bites her lower lip in an effort not to giggle. "I think you mean a spare wheel."

"Indeed."

Jack can't help but smirk. "C'mon, the rest of you. Let's suit up."

* * *

A klaxon wails and the PA crackles to life. "Your attention please. This is General-Governor Hammond. An invasion force is inbound to New Earth. Noncombatants and their families should seek the nearest underground shelter and remain there until given the all-clear. This is not a drill. Repeat, invasion is imminent, seek shelter immediately."

Personnel trade uneasy glances but remain oddly composed. MacGyver wonders just how often they've experienced life-or-death situations back under Cheyenne Mountain for this to be nothing new.

He's surprised he's not panicking himself, being his first alien invasion and all. Instead he feels the same frisson of excitement and readiness for anything that always preceded a Phoenix or DXS assignment.

As if deep down he's finally accepted the whole crazy sci-fi premise that's become his life in the past few years.

An air of controlled chaos pervades the base as personnel resume making their preparations. In each corner of the main compound Marines set up sandbags around temporary emplacements containing ground-to-air rocket launchers and the like, in case one of those death gliders ventures too close to the hangar containing the all-important Gate.

Becky, Jack, Sam and Daniel emerge from a door, suited up and mission-ready. Teal'c follows behind without his own kit for once.

Mac jogs over to meet them. "You guys heard the news?"

Jack nods. "On our way to the city now."

"Need backup or anything?"

"Nope. We're good, thanks." A brotherly clap on the shoulder. "You're better off here, especially if something's gotta be invented in a hurry. Besides, Jan could probably use some help in the infirmary once casualties start coming in."

"Good point." Not like he's willing to carry a weapon anyway, invasion or no.

A sudden flash of light and a figure appears in the middle of the compound draped head to toe in black robes, only a dark, featureless void under the hood where a face would normally be.

One of the nearby Marines lunges forward in a foolish effort to grab him but winds up hitting the dirt for his trouble. Must be a projection.

"I am Anubis," the figure announces. "Humans of the Ta'uri, your end of days finally approaches."

"Hate to break it to ya," Jack mutters, "but been there, done that and we're still alive and kicking."

"There will be no mercy," Anubis drones on. "You will bow to my awesome power. There is nothing that can stop the destruction I bring upon you. Prepare to meet your doom." The image disappears.

If anything the pronouncement only encourages people to work faster. No time for fear and panic now.

Jack snorts. "For crying out loud. Is the guy a living cliché or what? Let's get goin'. The sooner we can shut him up for good the better."

Mac can only watch as they dash off in the direction of the Jumper landing pad. After giving him a quick hug Becky easily catches up with them, matching their longer strides despite her shorter legs.

If there's anything he's proudest of in his life it's her. There's no denying she's equal to any challenge put in front of her, and he had a hand in making that happen. He feels a warm satisfied glow at the thought.

"You should be rightfully proud of your _che'sula_, MacGyver," Teal'c says beside him. "She possesses a warrior's spirit though she walks the path of a scholar. Much like Daniel Jackson and yourself."

He grins at the Jaffa. "You bet I'm proud. C'mon, let's see what we can do around here to lend a hand."

* * *

The flight's conducted in silence save for significant looks shared with each other from time to time, volumes communicated without uttering a single word.

For which Becky's grateful, her stomach as tied up in knots as it is. She no longer harbors doubts of her competency in dangerous situations, nor of her place within the SGC. What bothers her now is the knowledge that the four of them in this one small ship might be all that makes the difference between victory and defeat, for their settlement in particular and the galaxy as a whole. If they can't stop Anubis in his tracks no one can.

About halfway to the city the Jumper comes under attack, shaking with the impact of every hit. Three roughly crescent-shaped fighters hover into view.

Goa'uld death gliders.

Jack curses. "Carter, get shields up and weapons online."

In the co-pilot's seat Sam pushes buttons, flips switches. "Fire when ready, sir."

One explodes in a most satisfying manner. Becky feels like cheering.

The return hits are mercifully absorbed by the shields, but not without more rattling.

"Mind getting us to the city in one piece, Jack?" Daniel's knuckles are as white as hers from gripping the sides of his chair.

"Don't you know by now I hate back-seat drivers, Danny? Hang tight kids, I'll shake 'em off." A series of turns and dives above the river leave Becky reeling. She'd be losing her lunch and then some if it weren't for inertial dampeners provided by the Asgard.

Two gliders remain, keeping pace despite Jack's best efforts. The Jumper rocks with one well-placed blast.

"That took out our shields, sir."

"And I'm out of ammo, too. Dammit!"

Becky swallows, sharing a concerned look with Daniel. He reaches for her hand, squeezes. She squeezes back. That will have to do for _I love you_, if they don't make it.

Not likely they will at this rate anyway, as vulnerable as they've become despite Jack's evasive maneuvers. More shots like that and they're done for.

From out of nowhere two F-302s swoop down behind the gliders, blasting them out of the sky. "Never fear, the Snakeskinners are here!" Mitchell's gleeful voice comes over the radio.

Becky could kiss him right now, even with her beloved sitting nearby.

"But you're with the _Prometheus_!" Sam exclaims. "It must have just emerged from hyperspace."

"You better believe it. Engaging the enemy as we speak."

"Sweet. Any more on our tail, Mitchell?"

"Three more gliders and an Al'kesh on the radar. Don't worry Colonel, we'll keep 'em away from you."

"Appreciate it."

"Blue Two to Blue Leader." Lorne's voice on the radio. "The gliders and the Al'kesh have veered off to the west. They must be headed for the base."

"Dammit. Quit lollygagging and get outta here, Mitchell. Don't let 'em near the place!"

"Copy that, sir. Good luck in the city." The F-302s do identical barrel rolls to the left and veer off.

"Showoffs," Jack grumbles good-naturedly. "All right campers, landing in five minutes. Let's hit the ground running."

* * *

The tower doors open at Becky's proximity without her even having to touch and murmur the password (a new development, but one she barely notices). They hurry through the corridors and into the central atrium, only pausing long enough to catch their breaths.

"Get that shield back up quick as you can," Jack says before they split off. "I'll release the drones soon as you say it's good."

"Will do." On impulse she gives Sam and Jack a swift hug each. "Good luck, both of you."

He drops a kiss on top of her head. "You too, kiddo. Danny-"

"I know, Jack. Look after her or you'll kill me." Almost fondly.

"Got it in one. See ya later."

* * *

Becky winces at the distant sounds of aerial battle outside as they enter the control room, imagining the collateral damage done on both sides in the attempt to keep the gliders away from the settlement.

The long-awaited invasion is here. Everything could be lost at any moment, despite their best efforts.

If ever there was a time to be brave, it's now.

Yet before she sits in the chair there are things she must tell her beloved before it's too late.

Like how very much she loves him. How she can't live without him. How she wants to marry him someday, raise a family, grow old together.

"Daniel?"

"Hmm?"

She opens her mouth but nothing comes out. They've never talked about their future yet (if there is one), and she's afraid he's not ready to hear what she has to say.

Fortunately actions speak louder than words.

She settles for grabbing the collar of Daniel's jacket, tugging him down to her level, covering his mouth with hers for a long and deep kiss. His eyes widen in momentary surprise then he returns it with equal fervor, arms wrapping around to hold her tight. The urgency of the situation, the underlying fear only makes it hotter.

Reluctantly they pull apart, breathing heavily.

"I..." she swallows, tries again, "I just want to say..."

"I know. Me, too." A gentle kiss to her forehead. "Ready?"

"Ready."

She sits and closes her eyes. The chair leans her back.

Time to get to work.

Contact.

_Huy-Braesealis? _

_~Ave, Domina.~ _

_What's the status of the southwest emplacement now? _

_~Fully functioning. Ready to engage Astria on your order.~ _

_Then do so. _

_~Firing laser. The system is now primed and ready.~_

She reaches out, just like during initialization-

-finds Jack in the other chair, awaiting orders.

_Testing, testing. One, two, three. Hey, is this thing on? _

_I hear you, Jack. Are the drones ready to go? _

_Barely keeping 'em restrained as it is. Just let me know when to let go of the leash, and the sooner the better. _

_Understood._

Two minds are better than one for this task, but it's not enough.

She reaches for two adjacent minds, linking them together, holding on with fierce intensity, even so not enough-

-until one more element is added to the mix.

_Huy-Braesealis? _

_~Connection complete, Domina. The fleet is moments away from orbiting the planet. Soon the first wave of fighters will cross the boundary between outer space and the upper atmosphere.~ _

_What do you think I should do, Jack? _

_Your call, Beck. Raise the shield or release the drones. You're in charge. _

_Gee, thanks for reminding me. Huy-Braesealis, activate aspida. _

_~Yes, Domina.~ _

No need to see out the window this time. They can recall the star outlined in beams of shimmering blue light, expanding upwards into a clear dome.

Just in time, too.

Death gliders rapidly descend from the upper atmosphere, firing staff cannons in their strafing runs. The _aspida_ performs just like in the test, absorbing the energy generated by the attack and strengthening itself with replenished reserves at the same time. Several even dive bomb the shield in the hopes of damaging it head on, only to explode on impact.

_Will you look at that! Thing of beauty, I tell ya. _

_We're not out of the woods yet, sir. More gliders and Al'kesh coming in the second wave, along with the first of the Ha'taks. _

The shield holds steady as the invasion redoubles their efforts, until an Al'kesh unexpectedly crashes into the western mountain range and it flickers.

Not a good sign.

_Huy-Braesealis? What happened? _

_~The ship crashed not far from the northwest emplacement, Domina.~ _

_Any survivors? Is the emplacement all right? _

_~No survivors, Domina. Minimal damage sustained to the emplacement, though the aspida remains intact for now.~ _

_Sure rattled the shield, though. Let's hope no one else has the same idea. _

A second crash by the southeast emplacement, another flicker.

_You and your big mouth, Jack. Any suggestions, guys? _

_~Domina, the power stored in the emplacements is almost depleted and potentia levels are decreasing rapidly. It will not hold for much longer, and I fear no reserves will remain even for aktina mode if it is not deactivated soon.~ _

_He's right, Becky. Dropping the shield and releasing the drones is our best option. _

_Agreed, Sam. Huy-Braesealis, deactivate aspida and activate the arma pabula fucus. _

_~Yes, Domina.~ _The shield winks out._ ~Armas are awaiting orders to launch.~ _

Through the AI and Jack she senses the drones in their cradles, active and fully energized. Ready to fulfill their purpose.

_You're the sword, Jack. Fire away. Do be sure to avoid anything belonging to us, okay? _

_Yes, ma'am. Launching 100 drones...200...300...400...500 away. Multiple targets. _

_~Domina, I can provide an exterior view if you would like to see their progress.~ _

_Please do. _

A constant stream of drones- half-transparent, glowing golden from within- emerge from concealed underground shafts around the tower, streaking upwards-

-deftly avoiding the _Prometheus_ and the F-302s-

-piercing the invading fleet, hitting their targets with precision only a trained pilot can achieve-

-cutting the enemy fleet to shreds by filling every nook and cranny-

-then exploding simultaneously.

_Sweet! _

_Next wave approaching, sir. _

_Got it, Carter. Launching 500 more. Man, look at 'em go. _

_You're enjoying this way too much, Jack. _

_You bet, Danny. This is so cool! _

_~Colonel, I must remind you it will take the city many months to manufacture replacements if you continue to launch them at this rate.~ _

_Darn it, H-B. You take all the fun out of this. _

_~I merely advise a pragmatic approach, Colonel. And my name is Huy-Braesealis.~ _

_{smirking} Sorry. My mistake. Carter, what's our status? _

_The majority of the fleet's been decimated, sir. Only a few ships remain. There's one Ha'tak holding back, though. Coming into range now. _

_Must be Anubis. Right, the Prometheus and the F-302s can take care of the mop-up. Beck, time to break out the space ray. _

_Got it. Should I open fire now? _

_Not just yet. Wait for it... _

In slow, stately fashion the Ha'tak approaches the planet.

_Wait for it... _

Inexorable. Inevitable.

_Now. _

_Huy-Braesealis, activate aktina. _

_~Yes, Domina.~ _

The beams of light come together as before, shooting upwards through the atmosphere towards the mothership in orbit-

-where Anubis has been watching in disbelief as his entire fleet is utterly destroyed by the unexpected combination of swift Tau'ri ships and powerful Ancient weaponry-

-sending him a simple, forceful message before impact:

_This is our world now, our home. You are not welcome here. Be gone!_

Detonation.

The tower rocks top to bottom with the force of the massive resulting shockwave over their heads. Strong enough to knock Jack, Sam and Daniel out of the link.

_Huy-Braesealis, what's our status? _

A brief moment of panic as the AI's presence in her mind blanks out.

_Huy-Braesealis? Are you there? Answer me! _

Darkness. Darkness and silence.

_Huy-Braesealis, what happened? Are you okay? Speak to me, please! _

The shimmer reappears in her mind, amber and russet and pale gold.

She breathes a sigh of relief. _Thank goodness. Are you all right? _

_~My apologies, Domina. The impact briefly disrupted my functions but I was able to reboot. I am better now.~ _

_I'm glad. What's the status on both systems? _

_~All the emplacements remain intact, though they require fresh potentias before resuming operation. It will also take time to manufacture more of the armas. Something unexpected has occurred with the reset, however. A file heretofore hidden in a minor directory has just presented itself with an urgent flag for your immediate access.~ _

_...You mean it wants to download itself into my mind? I don't like the sound of that much. Is it safe? No Trojan horses or anything? _

_~Horses...? Ah, I see the references in your mind. I understand your concern, Domina. It has been scanned for hidden traps or viruses and there are none. You will waken as soon as the download is complete. It will take time to process the data, but only on an unconscious level.~ _

_And I need to see this information because...? _

_~I believe you and your people will find it interesting, perhaps even useful as a contingency plan. Trust me, Domina. You will come to no harm.~ _

_All right. Go ahead._

Even as the download begins she has the sudden premonition something big is happening at the settlement, though for good or ill she cannot tell.

She can only hope everyone's okay.

* * *

Dodging strafing fire, Mac springs in the direction of one of the compound emplacements, rolling against the sandbags to hide from the latest barrage. Winces as his knees ache with the impact.

Times like these he wishes he had a younger and more resilient body. Not long ago he'd thought his adventuring days far behind him. Go figure.

Janet's squatting nearby, tending to a Marine's leg and sending him off on a stretcher to the infirmary before turning to the next casualty for triage. Definitely not combat-shy, though he secretly harbors misgivings about her willingness to serve in the line of fire. But then he'd worry about her even if they weren't romantically involved.

"Hurry up, Mac," Ferretti says, kneeling beside him. "Gotta get that thing workin' before we're toast."

"Yeah, got it." He pulls out his Swiss Army Knife, gets to work on unfreezing the jammed tripod stand for what they call a staff cannon. After some finagling it pivots freely once more.

"Thanks." Ferretti takes hold of the weapon, fires at the Al'kesh hovering overhead. It retreats after being damaged from two shots with the staff cannon, but not before dropping down three horizontal rings.

Goa'uld transporter. Mac recognizes it from the reports with a shiver.

Three figures in black armor appear in a flash of light and immediately begin firing once the rings depart, their weapons emitting energy beams into the compound.

Ferretti curses. "Kull warriors. Great, just what we need."

"Come again?"

"Shock troops for Anubis. Saw one without its helmet once, ugly pale fella. Gave me the creeps." The major turns to his SG-2 teammates hunkered down nearby. "Okay guys, we got those special rounds to deal with these suckers, so let's put 'em to good use."

One dies in a hail of bullets, the second not long after. The remaining warrior feints in the direction of Janet, who's just standing up with her back to him, oblivious to the weapon carelessly aimed at her-

Janet!

Without sparing a thought for his own danger Mac sprints to her side, knocking her to the ground and out of the line of fire. The energy beam glances off his left shoulder, a searing burn.

"Do not worry, MacGyver. I will defend you and Doctor Fraiser." Teal'c steps forward, raises his staff weapon. "Major Ferretti, if you will assist?"

"You got it." A combination of bullets and well-placed energy blasts shorts out his armor and puts the warrior down for good.

"Um, Mac?" Janet's voice is muffled. "Usually I love it when you're on top but I can't breathe."

"Sorry." Leaning heavily on his uninjured arm he scoots up and away from her, gritting his teeth at the pain in his shoulder.

Her eyes widen. "You've been hit!"

"It's nothing. I'm fine." Almost by reflex, his wince putting the lie to his words.

She frowns. "That's not nothing, Mac. Sometimes you're too much like your brother. Let me see," getting to a kneeling position to better examine the wound and pulling on fresh gloves. He gasps as she gently prods. "Must've just glanced off of you. No worse than a second-degree burn."

With his other hand he gingerly fingers the burnt edges of the fabric, frowning. "Still hurts like heck."

"It will for a while. Even so you're lucky. Energy weapons can be nasty." She rummages in her bag, takes a pad of gauze from her medkit and secures it over the wound with paper tape. "I'll check it out more carefully when I can get you to the infirmary but this will have to do for now. The bandage will have to be changed every day. That means a lot of house calls, I'm afraid," giving him a cheeky grin and a wink.

"Good thing you know where I live then, huh?"

A familiar faint rippling shimmer appears in the sky. Gliders and Al'kesh descend from the upper atmosphere, their attempts thwarted by the impenetrable shield.

"Looks like Becky and Jack made it," Janet remarks.

"And just in time, too." Mac grins in relief, the pain of his shoulder momentarily forgotten. "I knew they could do it."

After enduring several waves the shield abruptly disappears. Then a stream of golden sparks shoots upwards from the mountains to the east, deftly avoiding their own ships but decimating what remains of the enemy fleet.

Ferretti grins. "Talk about a light show, huh? Beautiful."

Even as he hates war and destruction Mac can only agree. If it weren't for those Ancient weapons at their disposal- and his own brother and niece at the controls- the settlement would be a crater by now.

One by one the last few ships are destroyed. A few moments of stillness, then the sky darkens as a immense pyramidal ship briefly blocks out the sun.

Mac swallows. He's seen images of Ha'taks before, though never one in person until now. It's terrifying.

A massive blue beam shoots straight up into the sky. The Ha'tak explodes in a bright burst of actinic light.

Stunned silence prevails before the entire settlement reverberates with the sounds of celebration.

"They did it," Janet breathes. "We're safe now."

Mac slips his uninjured arm around her shoulders, smiling down at her. "Yeah we are, aren't we?"

She beams at him. God, she's amazing. Gorgeous, vivacious and brilliant. Fearless in the face of danger. Kind and compassionate. He's never known anyone like her before.

To think he could've lost her today. "Jan-"

She places a finger against his lips. "Hush, I know. You saved my life, Mac. That's something I won't forget. I owe you big time."

"Marrying me might be enough to cover it," the words startling him even as they come out of his mouth.

Janet gasps. "Mac, did I just hear you right? Are you seriously proposing to me?"

Teal'c says nothing but raises an inquisitive eyebrow. The space around them has gotten pretty small, what with Ferretti and other personnel suddenly paying close attention, almost holding their collective breath.

Mac's almost tempted to say he's joking, citing adrenaline rush and the heat of the moment. Must've been, to make such a reckless statement.

And yet at the same time he desires nothing more than to spend the rest of his life with this incredible woman, loving her with all his heart and soul. They're perfect together, in ways he never expected. He wants to ensure she and Cassie are forever safe, happy and loved.

So why not take the chance? THey've just survived an alien invasion, after all. Anything's possible now.

"Yeah, you did. I love you, Janet. I want to spend the rest of my life with you. Will you marry me?"

She regards him with an expression so serious he fears he's screwed up their relationship beyond repair.

Then she bestows on him one of her most radiant smiles and he feels immense relief. "Oh, Mac. I love you too. Yes, I'll marry you." He meets her halfway as she stands on tiptoe. Their arms wrap around each other- though mindful of his injury of course- for a long, heated kiss, pulling back with a faint blush to their cheeks as personnel cheer for a second time, if anything even louder than before.

Teal'c nods in satisfaction. "Felicitations, MacGyver, Doctor Fraiser." He holds out his hand. "I believe this is the Tau'ri custom for such an occasion?"

Mac can't stop grinning as he takes it. "Yeah, it is. Thanks, Teal'c." His smile fades. "Oh, no. What am I gonna tell Jack and Becky?"

"I believe they will be most heartened by the news. Indeed, I am certain they have been anticipating this development for some time." He can almost swear he sees a glint of humor in the Jaffa's eyes, even a faint trace of a smile on his lips. Guess he's been expecting this as well.

Janet laughs outright. "Bet Cassie feels the same way. She'll be so thrilled."

Oh, yeah. He's gonna be an instant dad, too. How about that.

For a moment he has trouble breathing, certain he's about to freak out (talk about making a major commitment) but Jan's arms come around him again and they're kissing and everything's perfect.

Even so he can't shake this gut feeling Becky's not out of the woods yet, though why or how he has no idea.

* * *

Daniel staggers as the tower sways, gripping the side of the control chair. Beside him Becky remains unconscious, her vital signs stable though he wonders for how much longer.

His beloved should have awakened by now, surely. It's worrisome.

The radio set crackles to life. "Hey Daniel? You kids okay?"

"I'm fine Jack, but Becky's still under. How about you?"

"Still alive and kickin', but barely. So what's going on with her, Danny? Think you can wake her so we can get outta here soon?"

"I'm looking into it. I'll let you know."

"Understood. Though I gotta catch my breath before Carter and I meet up with you, if that's okay. Controlling those drones left me kinda winded."

"Got it, Jack. See you later."

A flash of light and a dark-robed figure appears in the middle of the control room.

Anubis. For real this time, Daniel realizes with a chill down his spine.

"Surrender, human," Anubis demands without preamble. "I will have this planet one way or another. Give it to me or the chair and the female Tau'ri in it will be destroyed."

"Not by the hair of my chinny-chin-chin." Daniel's surprised by his own flippancy. Jack's definitely been a bad influence.

"You amuse me, Tau'ri. So I will give you a choice. Yield to me and die quickly and quietly or resist and prepare for a long and horrible death." Just like a typical Goa'uld, vain and arrogant to the bitter end.

Not much of a choice either way.

Becky's still unconscious in the chair, Jack and Sam nowhere in sight.

It's all up to him.

"Decide now, Tau'ri," Anubis says. "Surrender or suffer the consequences."

He reaches for his sidearm, knowing full well bullets would be useless against the powerful Goa'uld. Better than nothing, though.

He'll protect his beloved, or die trying. That's the only real choice here.

* * *

_~Download complete.~ _

_Thank you, Huy-Braesealis. You have given me much to think about. Until next time. _

_~At your service as always, Domina. I strongly recommend you wake now. My sensors indicate Dr. Jackson is in grave danger.~ _

_...What? _

Becky's eyes fly open, widening in disbelief at the sight before her: Daniel all alone facing down Anubis, of all things.

"Decide now, Tau'ri," Anubis says in that doubled voice that always gives her the creeps. "Surrender or suffer the consequences."

She can tell by the set of her beloved's shoulders and the determination in his stance as he draws his gun that he's about to do something stupid. Sacrifice his life for hers, most likely.

No way. Not gonna happen. There's no losing him now, not after all they've been through together.

Summoning her strength she leaps out of the chair and forces herself between them, arms outstretched in a protective gesture. "The hell you will! You'll have to kill me first before you get anywhere near him!"

Daniel's eyes go wide. "Becky, no-"

Anubis chortles, an ugly, hollow sound. "Very brave, little Tau'ri! But your defiance has only sealed your doom." He raises his gloved hands, power crackling between them.

A bolt of red energy flies from his hands. Becky pushes Daniel out of the way, joining him on the floor. The beam rakes over them in a glancing shot and she cries out at the sharp, intense pain on her left shoulder. As Daniel moans and goes limp she realizes with a sinking feeling he must've been hit worse.

Gritting her teeth at the burning pain she stands and pulls her zat out of its holster, pointing it at the Goa'uld. Might as well go down fighting. "I've had enough of you, you slimy snake! Go and pick on someone your own size."

A blaze of yellow within the dark void. "Foolish little human. No one can defeat me! Now I shall destroy both you and your pitiful planet, once and for all."

"I wouldn't if I were you." In a flash of white light a man stands before them, dressed in a cream v-neck sweater and tan slacks. An uncanny resemblance to her Daniel, though without the glasses. A sense of serenity about him, also unlike her raven. "Harm them again and be prepared to face the consequences."

"Preposterous! You are Ascended. There are rules against interfering."

"Ah, but technically I'm not from this universe so the rules don't apply to me. Besides, I have a personal interest." A slow, deliberate wink in Becky's direction, leaving her thoroughly confused.

She can only gape, her gaze flicking between him and her own unconscious Daniel. Same yet totally different. Weird.

"Stop me, if you can," Anubis taunts. "Strike me down. Do it now or I will destroy this planet and everyone on it. Starting with these pathetic humans." Red energy flickers in his hands.

Balls of actinic light streak towards the Goa'uld before he can make good on his threat, black robes swiftly engulfed in white flames. Screaming as he burns, host and parasite both, until all that remains is a pile of ashes.

Becky ought to be appalled but can't summon up even a smidgen of remorse for him. Good riddance.

She turns back to Daniel on the floor. Her shoulder hurts like hell but it's nothing compared to the wound on his abdomen. She frowns and checks her pockets, panicking when she fails to find the usual emergency medkit stashed in her tac vest.

Not so much as a bandage to her name, and with her radio damaged by the energy blast she can't even call Jack and Sam for help.

Her beloved may well die if he doesn't get some kind of attention soon, and it'd be all her fault.

She can't let that happen yet there's not much else she can do for him.

Talk about helpless.

Even as she sinks into despair a large hand settles on her uninjured shoulder, gentle yet firm. She blinks up into the crystal blue gaze of the Ascended version, smiling down at her in sympathy. "Please, let me take care of that," he says softly. His hand moves to her injured shoulder and he places the other on her beloved's abdomen, fingers lightly splayed.

"Who are you? What are you doing here? Where did you come from?"

"Sssh." He closes his eyes, concentrates. His hands glow and the wounds knit themselves back together, the pain fading quickly. Even the burnt holes in their clothing are repaired, like they had never been.

Becky blinks in surprise. "Wow. Thanks a lot. And for getting rid of Anubis too, by the way."

"My pleasure. I've broken so many rules already but I feel responsible. I should never have let him out of my sight."

"Are you from a parallel universe? How and why did you Ascend?"

"Yes to the first question. Can't answer the last one, sorry. Suffice it to say my circumstances were quite different, and I had to make some tough decisions." He stands up, wiping his hands on his slacks. "I have to go."

She stands with him, placing a hand on his arm. Very warm and solid for an energy-based being. "Not yet, please. You saved our lives. I don't know how to thank you."

His smile is warm and gentle. "Just love him and take care of him, with all your heart and soul. He'll do the same for you, trust me."

"Will I ever see you again?"

"Maybe one day." He bends and kisses her cheek. "Take care, Becky." A bright flash of light and he's gone.

There's a soft groan behind her. Daniel's eyes open, blink up at her in confusion. "Um, hi?"

She grins in relief. "Hi. How are you feeling?"

"Got an awful headache. And I could've sworn I got hit by an energy bolt," he adds, absently patting his abdomen. He takes in the room with a slightly puzzled frown. "What happened to Anubis, anyway?"

She's not about to tell him an Ascended alternate version of himself saved them, he'd never believe it. "Got what was coming to him, don't worry. We'll never see him again. Here, let me help you sit up." She kneels, slipping an arm around her shoulders.

One of his slides around her waist, tugging her until she's sitting in his lap. She giggles. "Very smooth."

He looks smug. "I thought so. Thanks for saving my life."

"Honestly, I didn't do much."

"You saved me from worse, I'm sure of it. You were there by my side, and you didn't back down. That means a lot to me. _Mere bahaadur pyaare_," he whispers before meeting her lips.

She melts into his embrace, overwhelmed by the warmth of his body surrounding hers, the sensations evoked as they taste each other. His hands caressing her back, his own muscles flexing under her hands as she smooths them beneath his jacket. Slowly savoring the sheer miracle of being alive and together.

Perfection.

"Sheesh, you two. Celebrating already?"

Jack strides forward to meet them with Sam not far behind, both smirking. Their feet trail through the pile of ashes and Jack frowns down at the floor. "You oughta bring a broom next time, Beck. This place sure needs a spring cleaning."

"I'll be sure to keep that in mind." Very dry. "How're you feeling?"

"Terrific." He breaks into a wide grin. "You did it, kiddo."

"We did it," she corrects firmly. "All four of us." She holds out her hand. "Help me up, Uncle Colonel?"

"You bet. Carter, give Danny a hand, okay?" He easily pulls her to her feet. "So what were you two doin' on the floor, anyway?"

Daniel opens his mouth to speak and she throws him a quelling look. "Long story. Let's get outta here, okay? Bet there's a lot of cleanup to do back at the settlement."

* * *

The MacGyver-Fraiser wedding's held a week after the battle. Captain Andrea Sedgewick officiates in her capacity as chaplain while vows are spoken and improvised rings of electrical wire exchanged, to everyone's amusement. Becky's already working on making them more permanent bracelets of braided and dyed leather at their request, a bit more practical and easier to come by than proper wedding rings right now.

Hard to believe that out of the three of them Mac's the one to get married first. Ironic, for a man who once considered himself incapable of making a commitment, the years serving as her guardian notwithstanding.

Judging from the faint bewildered look in his eyes he can't believe it either, though he repeats the vows willingly enough and his smile for his bride is warm and fond and genuine. After decades of bachelorhood and failed relationships he's finally taking a chance, allowing hope to triumph over uncertainty at last.

Janet beams at her beloved as she speaks in turn, with sure certainty she has the man she's been waiting for.

Cassie can't stop giggling, fit to bursting with happiness. She grins at Becky who winks back at her, cousin to cousin.

From their positions as best man and maid of honor Jack and Sam can't stop trading their own long, lingering looks. She wonders just what kind of shenanigans it'll take to get them to finally see reason and tie the knot.

Standing behind Sam she notices Daniel watching behind Jack, a small, wistful smile on his face. Their eyes meet and the smile turns warmer, even sultry. Her cheeks flush at the naked yearning in his gaze, like he can't wait for them to get home so they can ravish each other thoroughly. Since the incident in the control room it seems their passion has only gotten stronger.

Mac and Janet finally seal their bond with a kiss, and Becky joins in the enthusiastic applause.

She hugs them with tears in her eyes. "Congratulations. I'm so proud of you, Unc. Of both of you."

Mac grins, kissing her on the forehead. "Thanks, Beck. Maybe someday soon I'll be giving you away, huh?" nodding in Daniel's direction.

"Maybe someday," she agrees.

They will marry, she's sure of it. But not just yet.

There's a settlement to rebuild first, after all. Not to mention a whole galaxy needing to be set right.

Alvarez and his team are already hard at work repairing the damage, along with a host of volunteers. After tending to casualties and burying the dead in the settlement's cemetery people- military and civilian alike- are coming together with a renewed sense of purpose, ready to help each other however they can and pass along their knowledge to others. A true cooperative society.

Too bad it took the destruction of their homeworld- and almost losing this one- to bring it about.

Despite good reasons for secrecy Becky's convinced there's a strong argument to be made in favor of opening up to the rest of the galaxy. The Goa'uld as a species has been all but eliminated as a power now, what with most of the System Lords and their planetary strongholds reduced to tatters. An unprecedented opportunity exists to reach out to all these newly-vulnerable worlds, tip the balance firmly in favor of freedom and an end to millennia of oppression. Encourage trade between worlds, both material goods and ideas. Create a galactic confederation- a commonwealth, even- with Gateway as a trading hub and clearinghouse of information, thanks to the safeguards left by the Ancients. Bring them under the protective shield of New Earth lest some worse power comes along, seeing them as easy pickings to conquer and exploit.

They may laugh at her ideas in council but she's positive it'll happen, sooner or later.

There's all the time in the world, now.

* * *

A glorious night for the festival, the first hint of warmer weather during the day lingering into soft twilight, streetlights shut off so the entire settlement glows instead with paper lanterns everywhere. In each doorway sit handmade pots overflowing with flowers, both native and Old-Earth-adapted varieties.

Becky strolls arm in arm with Daniel through the central forums (which he says reminds him more of Middle Eastern bazaars than anything), marveling together at the joyful chaos surrounding them. Music on every corner, people walking around munching on special filled dumplings or kebabs of grilled proteins and vegetables or ices flavored with preserved fruits in paper cups from the food stalls. Loud and colorful, laughter and happy conversations and kids running around and playing.

Spring Awakening indeed. Life and light returning to the world after a long winter, even more precious when it could've all been taken away in an instant. A night of celebration, love and fellowship and good cheer in abundance.

The way things should be, all the time.

* * *

Twenty-eight hours later they relax on top of blankets in front of the woodburning stove. Lying on their sides, face to face and body to body, clinging to one another. Sharing warmth and breath.

Becky knows she ought to be at peace next to her beloved. But now she's had time to think the realization's hit her like a ton of bricks.

Surely there were sentient beings on those ships, along with the Kull warriors. Granted their sole job was to do their master's bidding; they would've destroyed New Earth and everyone on it without a moment's qualm.

But still.

If there were warriors like Teal'c aboard they must've had families at home who will never, ever see their fathers again. And she had a hand in making that happen.

She used to be a pacifist. Now she's a killer. And the shame burns in her like nothing else.

"You're thinking about last week, aren't you?"

Daniel's soft question startles her. They haven't said a word to each other for the past hour, content as they both have been to silently savor each other's presence after lovemaking. One of the best things about their relationship, no pressure to make conversation if they don't feel like it.

"How can you tell?"

The corner of his mouth turns up in a wry smile, the look in her beloved's beautiful blue eyes reminiscent of his Ascended version (she'll carry the memory of his appearance with her to the grave). "I know my hummingbird. You feel responsible for what happened, all those lives lost."

"I do," she admits, grateful for the firelight concealing her blush. "I know there's a war on, and we have to defend ourselves. Things would be a whole lot worse if we'd failed, and yet-"

"-and yet you feel remorse all the same," he finishes. "I understand, believe me. When Ra punished the Abdyonians for daring to defy him a lot of innocents were killed and it broke my heart. I knew down to my bones it was our fault- mine and Jack's. I was terrified of what we were facing, but I also knew it was our duty to set things right."

"And in doing so you brought down an alien god, freed an oppressed people and eventually changed the course of history for an entire galaxy." A wry smile of her own. "Not bad for a shy archaeologist and a full-bird colonel with bad knees."

Daniel chuckles. "I surprised even myself, back then. You know I've never considered myself brave, same as you. But I've learned that bravery is more than acting without fear. It's doing what needs to be done despite the fear. And you've proved you can do that, in spades."

"If you say so," she mutters, looking away from him into the fire.

He turns her face back, tenderly cupping her cheek. "I know so. Your compassion and caring for others is what gives you the strength to be brave, Becky. It's one of the things I love the most about you. Don't ever give that up."

"I'll do my best not to." She takes heart from his words, brooding banished for the moment. "You said that's _one _of the things you love about me. Are there others, by any chance?" She playfully bats her eyes.

A low, aroused chuckle as he reaches for her. "Plenty of time for a demonstration. Why don't I show you?"

He's right, she thinks before losing herself in rekindled passion. Plenty of time now.

Time to rest, rebuild, repair. Set a galaxy to rights.

To process a ton of downloaded information, which will take a while to sort even with assistance from the portion of Huy-Braesealis in her mind.

Already it's pervading her dreams, visions of tall graceful spires floating above the waves of an unknown ocean, gleaming pink and gold in an alien sunset.

No idea yet where it is in the universe but she knows it's out there, waiting for them. She knows its name.

Atlantis, the City of Water.

* * *

_Notes: Quick reference to S3 E16, "Urgo." Anubis' speech in the compound is, of course, from S7 E22, "Lost City Pt. 2"_


	20. Change of Command

"Fine work with the drones, Jack. I mean it," Hammond says over glasses of what could possibly be the last of genuine Old Earth scotch in the known universe.

On the credenza next to the cut-glass decanter is a version imported from one of their trading allies but neither is inclined to give it a try as of yet (it's purple, for god's sake).

Jack leans back in his chair, crosses one long leg over the other. He likes having these infrequent, off-duty conversations with his CO over drinks. "Thank you, sir. Though honestly my niece should get equal credit. Everything was prepped ahead of time thanks to her, all I had to do was sit in the chair and give directions."

"A sensible young woman. You should be proud."

"Oh I am, sir. Believe me. Though Mac had more influence when it came to her upbringing. Dunno how he managed to raise a teenage girl in between Phoenix assignments but I gotta admit he did a pretty good job."

"I'm sure your niece had a lot to do with it herself. Good head on her shoulders." He sips at his drink. "I suppose you've been wondering why I invited you over today. I'll be making an official announcement later this week but I wanted you to be the first to know. I'm stepping down as commander of the NEDF, retiring to an advisory position. The General-Governorship is yours, and welcome to it."

Jack's eyes widen, almost dropping the glass in his hand. "So soon, sir?"

"Fairly late, you mean. The SGC would've been my last posting anyway. A nice, easy assignment before retiring for good. Or so I thought," he ruefully adds. "Tell you son, never once had I imagined I'd be fighting a secret intergalactic war at my age. Or being governor of an offworld colony, for that matter. I've been in the service a very long time, and this business with Anubis was just about the last battle I had in me."

"To be honest, I don't think anyone could've predicted any of this happening."

"Perhaps not. Nevertheless, I'm looking forward to a good long rest, looking after my granddaughters."

"You've more than earned it, General. Time after time you've gone way above and beyond the call of duty for all of us. Gotta admit you're a tough act to follow."

Hammond smiles. "Thanks for the compliment, Jack. There's no doubt in my mind you're up to the task yourself. You may have a reputation as a maverick but you also care deeply about those under your command. It's no sinecure, but you've got the imagination and flexibility it takes to navigate our current situation and ensure we have a future. The official handover will be held after the Awakening festival, I should have everything wrapped up by then."

Jack stares pensively into his drink. He'd known this day was coming, but the reality of it still kinda floors him. Even though his body welcomes the rest he's not mentally ready to be kicked upstairs. He's always been a man of action, and the notion of spending the rest of his career behind a desk and dealing with politics- even the small-scale, settlement version- sets his teeth on edge.

Yet he doesn't have a choice, when it comes right down to it. The NEDF needs a leader, and no one else knows the scale of operations both on and offworld like he does, thanks to time spent shadowing Hammond as his 2IC.

He'll just have to do his duty, bite the bullet and take life as it comes. As he always has.

"If that's what you want to do, sir. I'll try not to disappoint, only- off the record?" Hammond nods. "I appreciate the promotion, but honestly I'd rather be fishing."

A wry chuckle escapes the General's lips. "I hear you, Jack. Don't worry, you'll do just fine. Feel free to come to me for advice anytime." He reaches over the desk, holding out his hand. "Congratulations."

Jack refrains from saluting just in time and takes it instead, a gesture of equals. "Thank you, sir."

Just wait 'til the gang gets a load of this.

* * *

The first team night after the battle, everyone gathered around the table at his place for dinner. Which feels pretty empty now since Mac's moved in with Janet and Cassie and Becky's comfortably cohabitating with Daniel.

Maybe he should jump on the bandwagon, convince Carter to move in after the handover. Or even asking her for something more, and not only because Mac showed him up by tying the knot first.

He's never met anyone who both complements and challenges him the way she does. Not to mention she looks damn sexy in everything, from BDUs to flight suits to that sweet little tank-top number.

Then again, they've both been content to take things slow. It's probably for the best to give their relationship more time to develop, or at least wait until after he's gotten used to being The Man for a while.

No one's surprised at the news of Jack's promotion. Which irks him a little, having expected a lively reaction on par with hearing about Mac and Janet's battlefield engagement.

"I don't know if I can do this," he admits. "Hammond's leaving behind some pretty big shoes to fill."

"You'll do just fine. Nobody knows how this place should be run better than you," Daniel says reasonably. "You can do whatever you want."

"Like ordering cake to be served every day in the refectory from now on," Becky quips, eyes twinkling.

"And I won't have to see you in the infirmary quite as often," Janet chimes in with a wry smile. "Unless it's to order you to cut down on said cake."

"Not likely he'd take your advice though, if I know my brother," Mac informs her with a smirk. "I'm warning ya, Jack, one of these days we'll have to hold an intervention about this unhealthy obsession of yours with baked goods."

"Hey, a man's gotta have a hobby," Jack counters in mock protest. He rubs his chin thoughtfully. "So I'll be able to do whatever I want, huh?"

Everyone else trades alarmed glances as they realize the implications. "Within reason, sir," Carter quickly amends.

He smirks at her. "Figured as much. So what's the flip side?"

"Well, the state of affairs out there is pretty chaotic, sir. An ambitious minor System Lord named Ba'al has already absorbed several territories into his domain and intends to acquire more."

"The Replicators are still a threat," Daniel notes. "The Asgard are barely holding their own against them; we'll have to help out somehow. And there are rumors of a newly-formed organization called the Lucian Alliance, eager to snatch up whatever's left."

"Any silver linings?" Jack inquires.

"Since word's gotten out about how we defeated Anubis we've received petitions via the Tok'ra from the surviving minor System Lords, for assistance in fending off Ba'al," Becky offers. "Other recently-freed worlds are also making overtures for our protection."

"I have word from Master Bra'tac," Teal'c says. "Many of my fellow Jaffa are eager to unite their tribes into a new nation, now they are free of their false gods. I intend to offer the constitution of our settlement as a role model at the first convocation. Elizabeth Weir has indicated her willingness to advise me on appropriate modifications."

"Sounds like a full plate," Jack muses. "Gotta admit sitting on the sidelines and watching you guys go have all the fun sure won't be easy. Just be sure to think of me slogging away behind a desk while you're taking a jaunt through the ol' orifice every now and then, okay?"

"Oh, I'm sure there'll be situations in which you can join us in the field, sir," Carter hastens to reassure him.

"And you can always come to your friends and advisors here any time you need guidance," Daniel adds with a trace of a smirk.

"Not sure if that's a good thing or bad thing, Danny. Though at least I'll have one ally on the council. Right, Beck?"

She smirks. "Depends on what you offer as a bribe, dear Uncle General-Governor."

"C'mon Jack," Mac says encouragingly. "Step up to the plate already. You can do this."

"MacGyver is correct, O'Neill," Teal'c states with his usual calm certainty. "We are facing some formidable challenges indeed but we are fully prepared to meet them with you as our leader."

"I appreciate the vote of confidence, guys. I really do." He sobers. "Seriously, thanks. Means a lot to know you're in my corner. Now, who wants dessert?"

Naturally, everyone raises their hands.

* * *

Later when everyone else has left Carter helps with the washing up, a pensive expression on her face.

"Penny for your thoughts."

She blinks at him, belatedly realizing she's been holding the same plate for the last couple minutes and setting it carefully in the dish drainer. "Oh, sorry. I was just thinking."

"You aren't ever gonna stop, period. That's one of the things I love about you. So lay it on me."

"Well, I was wondering who'd be leading the team if you're not with us. That is, if you're taking the job." A look of uncertainty in her eyes tugs at his heartstrings, that hint of vulnerability and self-doubt always making him want to cuddle her close even as he takes pride in her bravery and self-reliance.

"Hey, it's not like there are any other career opportunities waiting for me out there. As for who leads the team, hmm." He affects a thoughtful expression, pursing his lips. "Guess I'll have to give that serious consideration. Unless you wanna arm wrestle for it?"

She flushes at the reminder of their first meeting, what feels like a lifetime ago. "Still can't believe I actually said that out loud. You must've thought me terribly forward and insubordinate."

"Yeah, but I kinda liked it. Showed you had guts for a scientist. But let's not dwell. Don't know about you, but I wouldn't mind having a private celebration. How about it, hmm? Just you and me?" Offering her that slow, sexy grin which he knows always makes her melt.

She grins back. "As if you have to ask." They share a sweet, hot kiss over the soap bubbles.

A notion about her is already forming in his mind, even as he pulls her close. One long overdue.

Maybe being The Man has its perks after all.

* * *

The ceremony's held the first Friday after Awakening in the Memorial Grove. Three flags stand behind the podium in the clearing- the familiar SGC along with two new ones for the NEDF and New Earth itself, the material provided as a gift from one of their trading partners specializing in textiles and tailoring, eager for business since their original clothing from Old Earth's getting pretty worn out.

Becky squirms a little in her chair, squinting up at the light filtering through everblue branches high above. It's a peaceful setting but even three years after the Memorial it stirs up more embarrassing memories than she'd care to admit.

Her gaze strays to Daniel sitting on her left. He smiles as if he knows exactly what's on her mind and takes her hand, entwining their fingers.

A flush warms her cheeks. Okay, so maybe not everything about that day was humiliating.

Personnel salute as General-Governor Hammond approaches the podium for his farewell address. He takes in the assembled crowd with a sweeping glance before he begins.

"Ladies and gentlemen, when I first agreed to take command of the SGC I had no idea of either the events that would transpire or the challenges that would be faced, both internal and external. Nevertheless I'm honored to have fought alongside the finest and bravest men and women I've ever had the privilege to work with. And proud to stand among you now, as a fellow citizen of Gateway Settlement and New Earth. I commend each and every one of you on a job well done in defending our former homeworld to the best of your abilities, and in doing your utmost to make this one something we all can be proud of. Congratulations and thank you."

Everyone applauds.

"New leadership is required to take us into the future, whatever it may be. So without further ado it is with great pleasure I introduce to you the new General-Governor and Commander of the NEDF, Jack O'Neill."

From the other end of the grove people move to either side to make a path, military personnel coming to attention and saluting as he strides forward in full dress blues, shaking hands with Hammond.

Recognizing their cue Becky and Mac stand and approach the podium, each carrying the insignia of Jack's new rank. After replacing silver birds with silver stars Mac pats him on the back and Becky rises on tiptoe to kiss him on the cheek. He grins at them as they return to their seats before taking his place behind the podium.

In the front row Daniel and Sam smile broadly while Teal'c looks inordinately smug in his fashion, all three proud of their friend and teammate. He gives them a playful wink before focusing on the crowd at large.

"At ease," he says. "You all know how much I love speeches and there's cake being served afterwards so I'll make this quick. I wouldn't be standing here if it wasn't for the courage and support of each and every one of you and I'm grateful. Let me tell ya- despite all I've seen and done in my career I still believe in hope. It's not a friendly universe out there, but what we've lost along the way only increases the value of what remains, and only by standing together to meet our challenges head on can we find something precious on the other side."

"Pretty eloquent for Jack," Mac whispers to Becky.

"I helped him with this part," she admits just as quietly. "He couldn't think of anything inspirational to say that wasn't a quote from _The Simpsons_."

Daniel hides a smirk behind his hand. "Somehow I'm not surprised."

Jack arches a knowing eyebrow their way but continues. "We've come a long way since arriving on this planet, but there's also a long way to go before we can truly live in peace. I promise I'll do my best to be as good a leader as we've had and as good as you deserve. Thank you.

"Now it's time for the cool stuff. With great pride my first order of business as General-Governor is to announce the promotion of Major Samantha Carter to Lieutenant Colonel, and appoint her as my second-in-command of the NEDF."

A soft gasp escapes from Sam, her eyes widening. Jack smirks, gesturing for her to come up to the podium. "Major, in recognition of your years of dedicated service both officially and unofficially, and in light of the sacrifices you've made both willingly and unwillingly, and in acknowledgement of your selfless dedication to protecting two worlds, it's my great pleasure to confer upon you the rank of Lieutenant Colonel. Congratulations."

He exchanges silver oak leaves for gold. They salute each other.

The enthusiastic applause and cheers resound through the grove.

After the ceremony Becky's close enough to hear Sam say, "Are you sure keeping me on as your 2IC is a good idea, sir?"

"Sure as I am of anything, Carter. No one else I'd rather have on my six. I also need you to make sure Danny and T don't get into too much trouble out there."

She gasps. "You mean-"

"Yep. SG-1 is all yours. I'll figure out a fourth sooner or later, or you can find someone yourself who fits the bill." She can only continue to gape at him. He chuckles. "Speechless for once, huh? I gotta mark this date on my calendar."

She swallows. "Sir...I...I don't know what to say. I mean I'm honored, but-"

He waves away her objections. "You deserve it, Carter, the whole thing. I mean it. Off the record though, I'm open to accept any further thanks you're willing to give as, let's say, part of an off-duty strategizing session later tonight at my place?" Throwing her a sly wink.

Her smile's equally wicked. "Count on it, sir."

Becky grins at their exchange. She's so proud of them both. Jack's cheekiness and out-of-the-box thinking (a talent which runs in the family) is complimented by Sam's verve, moxie and sheer brilliance. They make a great team, with or without Daniel and Teal'c. The perfect combination to navigate the increasing chaos out there and confound their enemies.

The settlement needs that, now more than ever.

* * *

Several interesting days pass before Becky's radio chirps just as she's settling down for the night. "Hey, Becky?"

"Yeah, Jack?"

"Just wanted to let you know Danny's on his way home from the infirmary."

She takes a breath, hoping nothing's gone wrong. This is the first time SG-1's gone on a mission without Jack and of course he's just as concerned about his former team as she is, especially after the business with Ba'al, Camulus and the booby-trapped ZPM. "Are they okay?"

"They're fine. At least, no bones broken or anything like that according to Janet. But the guys are gonna need a good long rest before I let 'em go on another mission. Plenty of sleep and food, stuff like that. So don't let Daniel get away with it, when he insists on hitting the books until the wee hours again. Even if you feel like doing the same, since that's your natural inclination."

"Understood. Thanks for the heads-up." It's the least she can do for her beloved archaeologist. "You're a good friend, you know that?"

"I know my Spacemonkey. I'm looking after Sam the same way, too."

"How about Teal'c?"

"The big guy can take care of himself. Lots of food and some _kel'no'reem _and he's good to go. But the sooner Sam and Danny are rested and fed the better, because then I can send 'em out again. And don't worry, they won't get another mission until we both think they're good for it. Not even if Ba'al himself breaks down the door for real."

"Got it. I'll do my best, Uncle General-Governor."

"I'm sure you will, kiddo. See ya later."

* * *

Becky opens the door right when Daniel's reaching for the knob, which is good. Right now he's so exhausted he's about to do a face plant right onto the floor. "Hey."

"Hey yourself." A quick kiss on the lips. He catches sight of the clock and frowns. "Isn't the monthly council meeting taking place now?"

"Nah, staying home tonight. Laying low so I don't have to hear Williams expound on my saintly deeds during the battle." She makes a face.

"If you say so. Jack tell you I was on my way?"

"Yeah. How'd you know?"

"You wouldn't just be waiting by the door otherwise if he didn't already let you know Janet was releasing us from the infirmary."

"Good point. You need anything first, maybe a bite to eat?"

"No, just sleep."

"Okay." He lets her lead him by the hand into the bedroom. "Tough mission?"

"Yeah." He settles onto the bed, uttering a weary sigh before tossing the green jacket on a nearby chair and removing his boots before stretching out. Just as good as he'd been imagining while cooped up for days in that secret lab with Sam and Teal'c- soft mattress and pillows easing his tired body, the deep pleasure of his hummingbird joining him, snuggling in close. Her quiet, gentle presence soothes his spirit like nothing else.

He yawns. "Anything interesting happen while we were away?"

"You could say," she says, yawning herself. "SG-8 brought back a plant sample from P6J-908 for Botany to study two days ago. Turned out to be the 'alien kudzu from hell,' as Jack so eloquently put it. Grew ten times its size in fourteen hours, doubled that again in 28. Took the whole day after that to contain it before it could make inroads on the settlement."

"Good thing I wasn't around for that."

"Definitely. Your allergies would've been in overdrive, mine were bad enough. We finally got it all taken care of permanently but just in case Jack's ordered scans of the valley every day for a month or so, to make sure any stray spores haven't taken root. He's already chewed out SG-8, Bill Lee and the entire Botany section something awful for being careless and not taking proper quarantine measures first."

Daniel snorts. "I bet he did. Loudly, too."

"Oh, yeah. Heard him all the way across the compound." She pauses. "I'm really glad you're home. When Ba'al claimed he was holding you guys for ransom in exchange for Camulus I had a gut feeling he had no intention of letting you go."

"He never had us in the first place. Didn't Jack tell you that?"

"Well yeah, I know that now. But at the time-" She gives a one-sided, helpless shrug. "I know you've taken some pretty big risks before but I honestly don't think I've ever feared so much for your safety." A single tear slides down her cheek.

He brushes it away with his lips. "Hush, now. Don't think about it anymore. I'm safe and we're together again. That's all that matters."

"Oh, raven." They share a slow, sleepy kiss.

Too tired for lovemaking, he takes pleasure in just holding her for now. So sweet and pliant in his arms, the cotton t-shirt the slightest barrier from her soft skin and perfectly-proportioned feminine comforts. He'd be a happy man if they could stay like this forever, bodies and souls entwined, safeguarded against bad dreams and a myriad of terrifying what-ifs.

Daniel closes his eyes, falling into peaceful slumber, safely home at last.

Perfection.

* * *

It's almost 0200 when he wakes again, warm and comfortable, stomach content with a late supper of pancakes, near-bacon and avian eggs. Becky wrapped in his arms, her petite form a comforting familiar weight on his chest. Daniel brushes her hair back with a fond smile.

Naturally his body needs to answer an urgent call of nature at that moment. He carefully settles her against the sheets and drops a gentle kiss on her cheek, a soft sigh her only response.

He reaches for his glasses, gets out of bed and heads to the bathroom. Stares blearily at his reflection for a few moments, rubbing at the emerging bristles on his chin- he must remember to shave in the morning- before turning to the toilet.

Afterwards he opens the door and almost bumps into Becky. "Sorry."

She makes no reply but instead shuffles right past him, eyes glazed over, not even wearing her glasses.

"Becky? You okay?"

Her lack of reaction is puzzling, to say the least. Not her usual half-asleep stumbling after waking unexpectedly, that's for sure. Reminds him more of sleepwalking than anything.

Wouldn't be good to disturb her if that's the case. Better just to follow, make sure she's not going to hurt herself without realizing it. He makes a mental note to ask Mac later if she's ever done this before.

She enters the office without bothering to turn on the light, picks up a pen and starts writing on a piece of scratch paper.

He regards her carefully, brow furrowed in concern. It's been almost a year since the first expedition to Huy-Braesealis, when she sat in the control chair for the first time. Could what he feared for her back then be happening at last, delayed reaction from prolonged exposure to Ancient technology?

She sets the pen down and turns away from the desk, moving past him in the doorway without even acknowledging his presence. He follows her back to the bedroom where she collapses onto the bed, already sound asleep.

Daniel silently watches for a while until he's certain she's safe before returning to the office. He turns on the desk light, frowning slightly as he studies the scratch paper.

Gate glyphs. Eight of them this time, including the one at the end that's become increasingly familiar over the years as their new origin point even as they've kept the peak-and-circle _at_ as a reminder of their former homeworld.

Never before has he seen a sequence beyond the usual seven-symbol affair, despite there being nine chevrons on a Gate. No one has, until now.

It must have special significance. But what?

He shakes his head in disbelief. From out of the blue Becky sleepwalks and writes down an eight-symbol Gate address to god-knows-where. Weird, though admittedly not as much as what happened to Jack while under the influence of the Repository.

But it comes a close second.

With a frown he notices the Ancient letters she added below the glyphs. His eyes widen as he automatically translates it.

It's a word. No, a name. One straight out of myth and legend.

Atlantis.

* * *

_Notes: References to S8 E4 "Zero Hour" because the alien kudzu was fun._


	21. Pegasus

Jack leans back and sets his feet up on the desk, glad he has the most comfortable chair on base to cushion himself while doing battle with the inevitable paperwork. Sips at the mug of _klah_ in his hand and shoots a quick glance at his watch, just in time to see he's been at work for exactly five minutes.

Already he's bored.

He sighs and looks around his office, trying to find something to occupy his mind. This place is humming along like a well-oiled machine, thanks to Walter and the rest of the support staff. Not much to do today except for the aforementioned paperwork.

Maybe he oughta work on his yo-yo tricks again. Or give himself the day off, even- sneak right back into bed with Sam, or grab Mac and go on that postponed fishing trip.

He's the boss now, right? He can do whatever he wants.

The door opens and Daniel- whom he thought was safely tucked in bed under Becky's loving care since last night- pokes his head in. "Good, you're finally here."

He immediately turns and rushes away.

Jack scowls. Looks like the Spacemonkey's at it again.

Daniel doubles back and beckons to him, with a wide-eyed, almost manic look that's classic Jackson. "Aren't you coming? You gotta see this."

With a sigh he sets his mug on top of a stack of folders and eases out of his comfy chair. Following Daniel into a room filled with computer monitors showing Gate addresses and paper star charts taped on the walls.

Becky's standing in front a whiteboard covered with equations and Gate glyphs, her hands on her hips, scowling. She turns as they enter and waves a scrap of paper at them. "I don't get it. It's my handwriting but I've never seen an address like this before. Where did it come from?"

"I don't know either. You were sleepwalking when you wrote it," Daniel explains.

She only looks further confused. "You mean I went and did something remarkable again and I don't even remember doing it?" She throws her hands over her head, absently letting go of the paper. Jack catches it mid-air. "Unbelievable. Why does this always happen to me?"

"You're just lucky that way, kiddo." He frowns at the symbols and the Ancient letters beneath. "So what am I lookin' at, Danny?"

"It's an address, one we think leads to another city of the Ancients."

"You mean there's more than one?"

"Four of them, actually," Becky absently comments with her back to them, shuffling through a pile of charts.

Both men turn and stare at her, eyebrows raised.

She straightens and stares right back at them. "What, I didn't tell you guys before?"

Jack sighs. "Guess it's time to call a powwow, kids."

* * *

"Okay," Becky says once the gang (save for Teal'c who is conferring with Bra'tac on Chulak about the Free Jaffa Nation) is gathered in the briefing room. "All I know about the cities comes from Huy-Braesealis, so bear with me.

"While the Ancients had outposts everywhere, they were based primarily in four cities, each symbolizing one of the traditional elements of nature. Huy-Brasealis, which is called the City of Earth for obvious reasons. Atlantis is the City of Water, the address for which apparently came to me last night in my sleep. Lavondis is the City of Air, most likely floating in the atmosphere of either a planet, a moon or a gas giant. And lastly Caeris the City of Fire, which could be located near a volcano, or even in close orbit around a sun."

"All of the names correspond to legendary places in Old Earth mythology," Daniel notes. "Mostly coastal or island city-states, such as Hy-Brasil and Atlantis. The name Lavondis hints at locales such as Avon, Lyonesse, Avalon and Dis. And Caeris or Caer Ys was a mythical city built on the coast of Brittany in France, later swallowed by the ocean."

"I'm picking up a theme here," Jack remarks. "Makes me glad Mac and I grew up in the Midwest."

Becky rolls her eyes. "All four used to be in constant contact with each other, but Huy-Braesealis claims he lost touch with the latter two thousands of years ago. He has no idea what their current status is, and any record in the city's database of their respective Gate addresses or actual locations is gone. What he knows of Atlantis is all that's left."

"How do you know about Atlantis in the first place?" Daniel asks her.

She grimaces, rubbing the back of her neck. "It happened near the end of the battle, when we blew up Anubis' mothership. Which you remember caused a massive shockwave powerful enough to temporarily knock you guys out of the link, and made the AI reboot. When it did, a previously hidden file in a minor directory presented itself with an urgent flag for my immediate perusal."

Carter stares at her in frank incredulity. "You mean it wanted to download itself into your mind? And you let it?"

"Only after Huy-Braesealis reassured me it was completely free of any traps or viruses. I have no reason yet not to trust the system, it's always been very courteous and obliging. Turned out to be a pretty big file too, which is why I didn't wake up right away," she explains to Daniel. "I've been processing it on an subconscious level ever since."

"That certainly explains the sleepwalking and writing," he agrees. "Has your subconscious come up with anything else?"

"Aside from the Gate address? Not really. There's a portion of Huy-Braesealis in my mind that's been analyzing the data for me, and...Um, why are you guys looking at me like that?"

Jack can't help staring as if she's changed into a fascinating alien artifact right before their eyes, thunderstruck and more than a little apprehensive.

What had happened to him with the Repository was bad enough, but to his own niece? Too awful to contemplate. Damn that Ancient tech.

"How...how long has the AI been in contact with you?" Daniel asks her, almost tentatively. "Without you sitting in the chair, I mean."

Becky looks a little guilty. "Almost right after the first mission to the city," she admits sheepishly. "I knew you guys were concerned about my long-term exposure- like what happened to Jack- so I didn't want to alarm anyone. Only a very small portion's in my mind, really."

"It's not...using you for anything, is it? Gathering data for its own purposes or whatever?"

"No, absolutely not," she hastens to reassure him. "I think it's just for keeping a channel open. You know, maintenance issues, like what happened with the southwest emplacement." Jack nods reluctant understanding and so does Carter. "Don't worry, guys. Last night aside, I promise I'm not losing my mind. Besides, if I were under the influence of Ancient tech right now do you think I'd be able to do this?" She reaches over to Daniel and gives him a quick yet passionate kiss, leaving him dazed.

Which serves to break the tension, as she'd obviously intended.

Jack can't help but give a wry chuckle. "Nope, guess you wouldn't. But that won't stop us from worrying about you, Beck. You may think you're fine but I'm gonna have Janet give you a scan or two, just to make sure you've got your head on straight. Ah!" holding up his finger to forestall her protests. "I mean it, now. This is one time I don't want any argument."

She slumps in her seat and nods, more than a little regretful for inadvertently spilling the beans. "Yes, sir."

"An eight-chevron address," Carter muses, getting the discussion back on track. "We've never dialed one of those before, since it requires a huge expenditure of energy to establish and stabilize a wormhole connection. Much more than for seven. We'll have to use a ZPM as a power source, and connect it to the Gate with a modified generator."

"And do what with it?" Jack innocently inquires.

"Why, dial the address, of course. Sir." She looks astonished, even a little flustered.

He likes keeping her on her toes but he smirks a little, to show he's teasing. "Okay. So why did they build more than one city?"

"We don't really know, to be honest," Becky admits. "Maybe some of them wanted to form new colonies, seeding life elsewhere like they did here in the Milky Way. But we do know where it is. Daniel's calculated the actual location of Atlantis."

"The Pegasus Galaxy," he supplies. "It's a dwarf galaxy in the local group, approximately three million light-years from here."

"A companion to the Andromeda Galaxy," Sam says. "Relatively speaking, of course."

Jack rubs his chin, thoughtfully. "I don't wanna be a wet blanket but isn't that an awful long way for us to go, just to knock on the door and introduce ourselves to any surviving Ancients as their new neighbors?"

"C'mon Jack, isn't the fact it's there and we know where it is incentive enough to find out? The eight-chevron address indicates a point in space outside of this galaxy. We won't know anything else about it unless we dial the address." There's that manic look in Danny's eyes again, when he's hot on the trail of an archaeological mystery.

Which rarely bodes any good, in Jack's experience.

"And isn't that the same reason why we go through the Gate in the first place, to see what's out there?" Becky chimes in. She's got that same look now. "Exploring is what we do best, after all."

Jack leans back, steeples his fingers in unconscious imitation of Hammond. "Okay. So this obviously calls for something more than a mere recon mission. But what?"

"Well," Becky ventures with a glance at Daniel, "if the Ancients went big, maybe we should too."

Jack's brow furrows. "You mean an expedition?"

She shrugs. "Yeah."

A thoughtful silence ensues.

Sam finally ventures, "With the amount of energy we'll need to power the Gate it'll likely be a one-way trip for anyone who goes. They might be cut off from us forever if we can't find an alternative means to keep in contact."

"But that doesn't mean folks won't want to anyway," Becky counters. "Not if they're willing to brave the unknown and risk their lives in exchange for being on the cutting edge of research and exploration. And not just an expedition. A colony of our own in another galaxy, affiliated yet autonomous."

Daniel looks uneasy. "Um, to be honest I don't like the implications of the word _colony_."

"Then call it a contingency plan," she insists, "so we have somewhere else to go if another threat comes along that's too big for us to handle, and we have to either flee the Milky Way or risk total destruction."

"Got anyone in mind for a leader?" Jack asks, half-jokingly.

"I do, and you know her too- Elizabeth Weir. Now that we have the council up and running she's been advising Major Begay of SG-9 and our other roving diplomats. I also know she's secretly hoping for another project she can sink her teeth into, and I don't think she'll care if it's one-way."

Becky's made some good points. The legacy of the Ancients and their civilization- for all he hates their side effects- is a pretty big mystery, and one that deserves investigating. And he's been planning on developing a second contingency plan anyway, just in case things in the Milky Way go belly up.

It's a hell of a chance all the same, risking people's lives when there are only ten thousand or so left out of billions. Yet sometimes you have to take a chance to win big.

Oh, well. Nothing ventured, nothing gained. Right?

"Okay campers, let's plan an expedition. I'll talk to Elizabeth, see what she thinks. Maybe she can suggest others who might be interested. And then see where we go from there. Good chat, everyone. See ya around." He stands and the rest of them follows suit. "Oh, and Beck? Don't forget to get your head examined. I'll let Janet know you're coming over."

Her shoulders slump, obviously hoping he'd forgotten. Not a chance. "Yes, sir," she mutters.

Daniel places a comforting arm around her shoulders, throwing a dirty look at him behind her back. Jack just shrugs, in seeming nonchalance. He knows she's probably okay, but it's best to remind his niece every now and then he can be as parental towards her as his brother if necessary.

It's something he takes pride in, looking out for the well-being of anyone under his command. As Hammond did before him.

He glances at the clock. It's been an interesting couple of hours, at least.

Time to head to the refectory for a midmorning snack. Fortify himself with cake before seeking the opinion of the redoubtable Dr. Weir about mounting an expedition to this galaxy named after a mythological winged horse.

Never a dull moment at the ol' SGC, that's for certain.

* * *

As it turns out, nothing out of the ordinary shows up in the scans Janet does on Becky. Though there is the unfortunate side effect of Mac looking at her askance from time to time, only because he happened to be there to repair some equipment and eavesdropped. Now he's probably seeing her as a freak, just because of that portion of Huy-Braesealis in her mind.

Just peachy.

At least he has the decency not to blab it to anyone else, and Becky's grateful for doctor-patient confidentiality with Aunt Janet. She can only hope the others use their best judgement. Gossip spreads pretty quick around the base after all, more so than one might expect for a formerly top-secret operation.

God forbid word should get out through the settlement as well, and wouldn't that be perfect fodder for Williams and his Witness Society! "Divinely touched by the Blessed Ancients," or some other nonsense that turns her stomach.

Good thing everyone's preoccupied with other news these days.

From Gateway to Gamma Base word has spread of a new opportunity for research and exploration, codenamed the Pegasus Project. Curiosity is riding high, though the details are withheld in strictest confidence from the general population.

Jack has seconded Becky to assist Elizabeth with expedition planning- selecting personnel, acquiring the necessary materials and provisions either from existing supplies in the settlement and all three bases (bless Alvarez for his vast warehouses) or through offworld purchasing deals. All of which demands attention to detail on a par with Zero Hour.

Fortunately Elizabeth has plenty of experience from heading the Planning and Steering Committees, and Becky herself has organized and led additional missions since Operation Astria, just as Sam predicted.

At least there's no lack of volunteers for the project, though the sheer volume of interest shown by scientists and military alike has even Jack scratching his head.

"Sheesh, you'd think the idea of a one-way trip to a mysterious uncharted galaxy would at least give some pause," he mutters, flipping through personnel files.

"You underestimate the lure of the unknown, General," Weir gently rebukes him. "The benefit to our settlement and humanity in general is far greater than the risk. And it's one that every volunteer is willing to take. Including me."

"Should they survive the training. I made sure it's grueling on purpose." A note of pride in his voice.

Becky can't help but admire her uncle the crafty old fox, considering her own informal preparatory sessions before he considered her mission-ready to accompany Daniel whenever he needed assistance offworld. Yet in the end there was only so much training he and the rest of the team could give her, before they just let her tag along and hoped for the best. Fortunately she hasn't let them down yet.

"Oh, I'm sure they've already determined you had something to do with it by now," Elizabeth remarks, very dry. "This morning I received a lengthy and detailed critique by email from Dr. McKay concerning, and I quote, 'the abject idiocy of forcing those of exceptionally high intelligence to suffer through exercises designed for military grunts with miniscule IQs.' Not that anyone else is complaining, of course. But I'm confident once we've settled into Atlantis they'll be grateful your 'Boot Camp for Geeks' prepared them for whatever the Pegasus Galaxy has to offer."

"I hope so. I still think 'Expect Everything' should be the expedition's motto."

She smiles. "It already is."

* * *

The next month Becky and Daniel return to the Memorial Grove, this time as witnesses to the marriage of Major Evan Lorne and Dr. Alexandra Woolston.

They make a lovely couple. Alex is one of the other archaeologists in the department, taller than Becky (granted, so is almost everyone she knows save for Janet) but a little shorter than Evan. Beautiful, with blonde hair and lovely blue eyes behind glasses. Evan's good-looking, solid and dependable yet with a kind and gentle- even artistic- soul. Even if he hadn't followed SOP by manhandling archaeological remains during a mission to P3X-403 (which had practically rendered Daniel speechless at the time) they've both nonetheless became good friends.

Their wedding's the culmination of a long and interesting relationship, according to Alex. Apparently they first met while he was stationed in Germany ("Sitting in the shade of an oak tree in Trier, one hot summer's day with sketchpad in hand. It was love at first sight.") and stayed together for a while before separating. They reunited unexpectedly a second time before the Big Quake, both working at the SGC of all things, though it took a while longer to get back together again as a couple.

After Zero Hour Evan had been assigned to Alpha Base while Alex stayed on New Earth to help set up the department. But they kept the relationship going, especially after he'd participated in the first expedition to Huy-Brasealis and flown with Cam Mitchell in Operation Astria a few months later. When he'd been reassigned back to New Earth after the battle it was like they'd never been apart.

Their story reminds Becky of her and Daniel, in a way. Meeting in Seattle then parting and reuniting again between the end of one world and the beginning of another.

It had been a surprise of course when Alex confessed a day before the ceremony that they'd volunteered jointly for the expedition. Becky's sad to see them go, but at the same time happy they'll have the thrilling opportunity to explore a new galaxy together.

Dr. Wang Xiaoli- a retired Anthropology professor from Taiwan and personally recruited by Daniel for the Stargate Program a year before the Big Quake- is also going, so the department at least will have two representatives in Atlantis.

"I'm so glad Alex and Evan finally got married," Becky comments later that night as she changes for bed, tugging on one of his faded t-shirts she uses as a sleepshirt. "At least they'll have each other's backs in Atlantis if anything happens."

A preoccupied nod from Daniel as he writes in his journal. "Mmm-hmm."

"Have to say I kinda envy them, going off into the unknown together. Such a brave, romantic gesture. I might be tempted to volunteer myself, if I wasn't already obligated to stay as Domina for Huy-Brasealis. Or if my own uncles would even let me go in the first place. I mean, sheesh, I love them dearly but I swear sometimes they still see me as just a kid."

"Mmm."

"Oh, I also want to put together something useful for the expedition before Departure next month. Maybe a glossary of Ancient phrases or something like that."

"Uh-huh." Still preoccupied.

She sighs. Time to take a page from Jack's book of tricks (or as he puts it, 1001 Ways to Annoy an Archaeologist).

"Ba'al is inviting us over to his place for tea next restday. Jack's bringing his golf clubs. He's planning on using the Gate to practice his backswing and he wants you to be his caddy."

Daniel looks up, startled. "Um, he wants me to what now?"

Becky snickers. "At least something I said finally got your attention."

He has the grace to look ashamed. "Sorry. I was just thinking about the expedition."

"Of course you were. We've been talking of nothing else for days." She climbs in next to him and opens her book. "Gotta admit it'll be the discovery of a lifetime. A whole new galaxy seeded by the Ancients. Who knows what's there?"

"Yeah. Can't wait to find out."

Which only serves to crystallize a notion that's been quietly nagging at her since he'd showed her the eight-chevron address she'd written in her sleep. "Daniel, we've always been honest with each other, right?"

"Of course. Why do you ask?"

"Tell me the truth, then. You want to go to Atlantis, don't you?"

His face scrunches up the adorable way it does when he's thinking of how to let her down gently.

Usually it's adorable. Not this time. "Well, now that you mention it..."

And there it is. "I thought so." She snaps the book shut, setting it and her glasses on the nightstand before turning off the lamp.

He blinks at her in confusion. "Wait, what? Hold on Becky, I didn't mean-"

"Never mind." She evades his attempts to embrace her by rolling herself in the blankets, turning her back to him.

He's going, she's sure of it now. How can her beloved raven, the ever-curious Dr. Daniel Jackson, not resist the lure of stepping through the Gate to investigate a second Ancient city in a whole new galaxy?

He can't. He won't. He'll step through without a moment's thought.

Leaving her all alone.

Tears trickle down her cheeks, staining the pillow. She makes no move to wipe them away.

* * *

Becky can't look him in the eye for days after that, in case her suspicions are confirmed. Fortunately there's plenty of work to occupy her mind instead. At least for the next week or so.

She strolls down past rows of crates and cases on loading pallets, occasionally checking label contents against the clipboard in her hand.

A tap on her shoulder makes her jump. Sheppard grins down at her, full of impish charm as ever. Just like Chris, way back when. "Hey there, little sister."

"John!" He gives her a brotherly hug. "So good to see you. When did you get here?"

"Couple minutes ago. Got time for a chat?"

"For you, always. Why don't I buy you a cup of _klah _and some cake?"

"Sure."

Soon they're comfortably settled in the refectory with the requisite snacks. Reminiscent of their occasional lunchtime chats under Cheyenne Mountain, pre-Zero Hour.

Ever since he rescued her from the clutches of Albert Norris (whose application for the expedition had been soundly rejected, thank god) they've been informally getting together when schedules permit. Very little in common yet from the start they saw something in each other almost like siblings- the big brother she still missed and the little sister he never had.

"So, how's life at Alpha Base?"

"Doin' okay. Elizabeth says you've been busy."

"Yeah. Helping her plan an expedition I won't be going on. Go figure." She shrugs. "But that's okay. Have you made your decision yet?"

He nods. "Rodney's going, and so am I. Just to keep him out of trouble, y'know?"

She snickers. "I'm not surprised. You two have been close ever since you first met at Alpha. I bet he's looking forward to being the smartest man in two galaxies."

"Like you wouldn't believe. Keeps asking why we're not there yesterday."

"Well, at the very least it'll keep him out of Sam's hair for a while."

"Yeah." He pauses. "Apparently Elizabeth's requested a promotion for me, since I'll be 2IC to Colonel Marshall Sumner from Beta."

She nods. "My idea. You've earned it. And Jack says Sumner's a good man." She raises her mug in salute. "Congratulations, Lieutenant Colonel Sheppard."

He squirms a bit, as reluctant as she is in accepting praise or recognition. "Not really sure I deserve it, but thanks."

"You're welcome." They share a companionable silence for a while. "I'll miss you," she finally admits. "I've gotten used to having a big brother again only for you to leave, and..." She shrugs helplessly, a lump forming in her throat.

"Yeah." He clears his own, obviously a little choked up himself. Stares into his mug, discomfited at the show of emotion.

Then- mercurial as always- he offers her a rakish grin. "Jeez, pretty maudlin of us, huh? Cheer up, little sis. Once things get settled in Atlantis I'll have 'em dial the Gate and send you a postcard saying _Greetings from Pegasus. Wish you were here. Surf's up!_" She giggles despite herself; he's always been able to make her laugh, just like Chris. "I'll miss you too, Becky. But you'll be okay. And so will I."

"Never a doubt in my mind. Look after Rodney and Elizabeth and the rest of 'em for us, willya?"

"You got it." They clink their mugs together.

* * *

And just like that she's losing three dear friends and a brother-in-spirit, all in one go.

Not to mention her beloved, though Daniel hasn't even said as much to her face. But she's smart, she knows him well enough. She can read between the lines. Though she still has her uncles and aunts (one actual, the other might as well be) the impending loss nonetheless cuts her to the bone.

One day it just hits her out of the blue, all at once. She breaks down crying, right in front of Jack's office.

How mortifying. And yet she can't stop.

"Hey now. What's wrong, kiddo?"

Blinking back tears she looks up into velvet-brown eyes, filled with concern.

"I...um..." Swallowing down the sob forming in her throat. Tries to get a grip but can't. Her cheeks burn crimson with shame.

Without another word Jack quickly ushers her inside the office and shuts the door. Privacy thus secured, his expression softens and his arms open wide. "C'mere."

She does with a soft cry. He cuddles her close to his heart, slowly running a hand down her back and rumbling soothing words, then producing a handkerchief from a pocket and handing it to her once she's past tears and into the snotty, hiccuping stage. "All right, enough with the waterworks. Feeling better yet?"

She sniffs, blowing her nose. "Not really. Sorry about that," nodding at the tearstains on his green BDUs.

"Don't worry about it. Looks like you needed to get it outta your system. Got a bit much there for a second, huh?"

"Yeah, you could say."

"You wanna talk about it?" Suddenly tongue-tied, she can only give a faint nod in reply. He leads her to the couch and pats the cushion beside him in invitation. "Have a seat. So what's Danny done now?"

She looks at him in surprise. "How did you know?"

"Uncle's intuition. C'mon, spill."

Though they've never before discussed her personal life he's probably the best qualified to understand. Maybe it's worth it, confiding in him.

"I'm afraid I'm gonna lose him."

He frowns. "What're you talking about? Lose him to what? Danny's nuts about you. He's not one to take relationships lightly, you know that."

"I know, but..." She swallows the lump threatening to form in her throat. Might as well bite the bullet, as Jack himself might say. "I think he wants to go to Atlantis, and since it may be a one-way journey I'm afraid..." Tears sting in her eyes and she wipes them away with the back of her hand.

Jack reaches over, gently patting her leg. "Easy now. Take a deep breath."

She takes several. "I'm afraid," her voice a bare whisper. "I'm afraid if Daniel leaves I'll never see him again."

"Has he told you directly he's going?"

"Not in so many words. But it's my fault anyway. I went and dangled a shiny new mystery named Atlantis in front of him and now he won't be satisfied until he gets to the bottom of it. You know how he is."

He nods. "Yeah, I do. But between you and me? I don't think that's gonna happen."

"How can you be so sure?"

"Because I know how much Danny's changed since you two got together. He's a lot more careful than he used to be, having more second thoughts about running headlong into a situation. More grounded, even. Most of the time, anyway. You've brought out a protective instinct I don't think he ever knew he had."

She frowns. "And you think that's a good thing? I don't want him to change too much. Really, I don't. His bravery in the face of danger is one of the things I most admire about him, along with his curiosity, compassion and intelligence."

"I know. That's why you're kindred spirits. And yeah, to me it's a good thing. We're still alive and kickin', after all." A brief, reassuring grin, then he sobers. "Seriously, I've never seen Daniel look at anyone before the way he looks at you. Well, except for Sha're, but you're his whole world now. You're not gonna lose him."

She wipes her eyes with the back of her hand. "I hope so. I feel the same way about him, you know. I've never been in love like this before. I don't know what I'd do if I ever lost him."

"Yeah, I know." His expression is warm and gentle. As wily and snarky as he gets he can also be such a softy at times, and she loves him for it. "Hey, if it makes you feel any better I'll have a talk with him, make sure he's not secretly packing or anything. Okay?"

She blows her nose one final time, then nods. "Okay. And Uncle Jack?"

"Yeah?"

She offers him a grateful smile, kissing him on the cheek. It's good to know he has her back. "It does make me feel better. Thanks."

He grins, winking at her. "Hey, what else are uncles for?"

* * *

Just when Daniel's involved in some pretty complicated translating Jack has to casually stroll into the lab, hands in pockets. "Hey, Spacemonkey. How's tricks?"

He heaves a long-suffering sigh, lifting his glasses to pinch at the bridge of his nose. "Jack, why is it you always have to come here when you're bored and I have way too much to do?"

"All in the timing. I'm crushed you don't like my company." He perches on the edge of the worktable near the most fragile artifacts, pulls out his yo-yo. At a glare from Daniel he tucks it back in the pocket with a chuckle. "Got time to chat?"

"No." Very curt, hoping he'll take the hint and leave.

Jack just sits there with arms crossed, swinging a leg back and forth just in his line of sight and humming something out of tune to himself. Annoying.

Finally Daniel sighs in exasperation. "Fine. I give up. What do you want?"

"Oh, just wonderin' if there's there something you've been meaning to tell me lately but afraid I'd shoot ya for it."

"Um, no. I don't think so. Why?" He's confused, not an uncommon occurrence around Jack O'Neill.

"Becky's convinced you're leaving for Atlantis next week. And so am I, the way you've been goin' on about the place."

"That's ridiculous. Where'd she get such an idea, anyway?"

"Dunno. But I don't blame her, the way you act when you're on the trail of something big."

"Jack..."

There's that raised finger he hates. "Daniel. Think about it."

After a few deep breaths he does. It would explain her odd behavior towards him lately, if she's been under the impression he wants to leave.

And he can't deny he did, for a while. The notion of investigating a second city of the Ancients- particularly if it's anything like Huy-Braesealis- is pretty compelling.

But for several years now he's used to sharing his discoveries with someone who appreciates them as much as he does. Who started as his assistant and then, gradually and quietly, became as essential to him and his work as breathing. His partner, his best friend.

His beloved, bound to the city here on this world.

Which is why he'd already decided not to apply for the expedition.

Because they're usually on the same wavelength, he assumed she automatically knew so he didn't tell her earlier. No wonder she got the wrong idea, since he's been nothing but enthusiastic about the subject.

They obviously need to communicate better.

"Jack, I swear to you I have no intention of leaving Becky, ever," he says, with as much honesty and sincerity as he can. "I love her too much to put her through that."

"Well that's a load off my mind. All the same you'd better set the record straight with her pretty darn quick. I'd really hate to see my niece suffer a broken heart. And if she's not happy..." There's a familiar look in his eyes, like when he wants to shoot someone. Usually Daniel himself.

He sighs. "Yeah, I get the picture. I'll talk to her tonight, promise."

"Peachy." Jack hops off the table. "Oh, by the way. I've got intel Janet's still got some genuine Old Earth chocolate in her personal stash. Might be a good idea to bring Becky a peace offering."

"You really think so?"

An elaborate shrug as he heads out the door. "Couldn't hurt, right?"

Daniel has to admit he's got a point. Not that he'd ever admit it to Jack's face, of course.

* * *

When he gets home later Becky's sitting on the couch reading, a blanket wrapped around her.

"Hey," he says, tentatively. "Mind if I join you?"

An offhanded shrug, which Daniel chooses to interpret as an affirmative.

Sitting carefully at the other end of the couch, he places his peace offering between them without comment: cordial cherries covered in dark chocolate. He owes Janet an awful lot of favs now.

Her eyes flick over to the box, then to him. "Jack's idea, huh?"

He nods. "Is it working?"

A corner of her mouth turns up in a wry smile. "Yeah, it is." She reaches over and extracts a piece, eyes closing in bliss as she chews and swallows. "God, I've missed this."

"So we're good, then?"

She smiles faintly. "Yeah, we're good. Sorry for being awful to you lately."

"That's okay. Can we talk now? Please?"

She sighs. "Look, I already know what you're gonna say. You're thinking of joining the expedition. I don't blame you, you've wanted to since the first time you figured out the eight-symbol address."

"That's just it. I did want to go, at first. But not without you."

Becky grimaces. "You know I can't since I'm beholden to Huy-Braesealis and there's no one else qualified to take over yet, for all the tests Carson's been doing for the ATA gene." A heavy sigh as she drops her gaze, fiddling with the book in her lap. "But I've been thinking too. You should go if you want. I don't wanna get in the way of your dreams, I never intended to do that."

"I know. But my dreams have changed."

"How?"

He smiles and scoots closer, gently tipping her chin back up to meet his gaze. "Because they include you, Becky. They have for a while now. I can't imagine my life without you. And to be honest I don't want to."

"Oh, Daniel." Her eyes gleam with unshed tears, lower lip trembling. "I feel the same way. You don't know how much."

He cradles her face in his hands. "I think I do," he says softly. Their kisses start out gentle but soon end up in earnest passion.

"_Ich kann nicht mehr ohne dich leben, geliebter Rabe_," she whispers breathlessly as their foreheads rest against one another.

He lightly runs his fingers along her neck, delighting in her quiver. "_Stiller, süßer Kolibri_. I'm not going anywhere, I promise. I've got more important things to do, like this." A slow, sweet kiss then he backs away, removing a chocolate-covered cherry from the box before setting it aside. He rubs it against his lips, the tip of his tongue darting out to taste, smiling wickedly at her faint whimper. "Well?"

She immediately slides onto his lap, winding her arms around his neck, leaning in close to share the treat with him in the most delightful fashion.

"Delicious," she breathes.

"So are you," he murmurs.

Their lips meet once again, followed by more kisses and intimate touches that ease the remaining tension between them.

Afterwards Daniel smiles down at his beloved, curled up against him in quiet contentment. No discovery of any Ancient city could compare to what they've found in one another. And he's glad.

This is all he needs, right now.

* * *

Becky leans back from her computer, taking off her glasses to rub at her eyes before checking the clock. Time to knock off for the night and grab a bite to eat.

One week to go until the Gate dials for Atlantis and the Pegasus Galaxy, after months of preparation. Still plenty to get done before then and she's tempted to continue but her experience with Operation Astria has given her a better understanding of balancing the demands of work with time for rest.

Now if she can only convince her raven of the same.

"Daniel?"

"Hmm?" He's bent over the worktable in the center of the room, translating a clay cuneiform tablet. Sensual lips pursed in concentration, BDU shirt off and draped over a chair, black t-shirt revealing nicely-defined forearms and sculpted chest.

Irresistible. Mouth-watering.

An exquisite shiver runs through her body, at the memory of those lips and that skin and the chocolate they shared the night before. There's still half of the box left, plenty for a repeat performance.

She comes over, leans beside him against the table. "Still working, huh?"

"Mmm-hmm."

"It's 1800."

"Mmm-hmm."

Obviously a different tactic's called for. She has a thing for men's forearms, especially her beloved's which are particularly enticing. She leans in close until her lips touch the nearest bicep, just enough to plant a few small, nibbling kisses.

His eyes shift in her direction and the corner of his mouth quirks up. "Becky?"

"Hmm?" rubbing her cheek against the soft skin, breathing in his scent.

"Are you trying to distract me?"

"Is it working?" A few more nibbling kisses.

He turns and cups her face in his hands, bending to meet her lips. Her arms encircle him in turn, rubbing circles on his back.

Oh yeah, it's working. She's glad beyond words he's staying, life wouldn't be the same without him.

"Becky? Daniel? Anyone home?" He half-turns toward the familiar soft English accent in the hallway but she cups his cheek and turns his attention firmly back to the matter at hand.

Alex Lorne grins at them as she enters. "Evan and I can't keep out hands off each other either, lately. Must be catching."

Becky grins back at the archaeologist. "Hey, Alex. How's it going?"

"Pretty good. Just stopped by to see if you both wanted to join us for dinner and a concert afterwards. Not much chance to socialize after tonight, you know, what with Departure next week."

Becky glances up at Daniel, who nods. "Sure, we'd like that. Are you done packing up your office yet?"

"Almost. We still need to go over the projects I haven't yet wrapped up. Though to be honest I hate the idea of leaving work unfinished."

"I know what you mean. Don't worry about it, we've got someone coming into the department in a couple weeks to take over. Your notes are so complete and extensive I'm sure Quinn can pick up right where you left off."

Alex frowns. "Who?"

"One of the scientists coming from Kelowna," Becky explains. "A new initiative suggested by Elizabeth, sort of an exchange program to share ideas. His name's Jonas Quinn. Daniel knows him from a past mission there."

"A hard worker and quick study," he notes, "though perhaps a bit overeager at times. Still, he successfully convinced his government the naquadria device was too unstable to test when we were there."

"Which probably saved your life," Becky says softly, putting her arm around him and resting her head against his chest. "I'm glad my gut feeling was wrong that day."

He smiles tenderly down at her, kissing the top of her head. "Me, too."

Alex gives them an indulgent smile. "You two make an awfully cute couple. Pity you aren't marrying this weekend. Evan and I would love to attend your wedding."

Becky can't help the flush on her cheeks. "You guys in the department are the only ones putting any kind of pressure on us, you know that? By the way- we have a little something for you. Sort of a combination wedding and going-away present." She shuffles through piles on her desk, finally sighing in frustration. "Daniel, where's that glossary CD and booklet for the expedition? You had it last."

"Hmm?" He looks away from the book he'd just picked up, brow furrowing in thought. "Oh, that. It's in the filing cabinet."

"Under G for Glossary, or C for CD?"

"Neither. A for Ancient."

"Of course. Why am I not surprised?" Becky shares a look of fond exasperation with Alex as she heads for the cabinet, pulling out a CD in a slim clear plastic case with a booklet tucked inside. "Here you go, with our blessing."

Alex quirks an eyebrow in amusement at the title written in black marker. "_Ancient Language Survival Guide_?"

"My idea," Becky says with a self-depreciating shrug. "Atlantis is bound to be full of all kinds of displays, just like Huy-Braesealis. So Daniel and I- with help from the AI- put together a compilation of sorts, translations of useful phrases that might make you guys think twice, if not keep you entirely out of harm's way. In your spare time you can give everyone else lessons, since you'll be the only one fluent in the language."

Alex takes it from her, pulling her close for a quick hug. "Thanks. Dr. Weir mentioned there might be plenty of opportunities for learning ahead, and this will be quite useful. I appreciate your thoughtfulness."

Becky ducks her head, flustered as usual at the compliment. "You're welcome. My mom always said even though one can't predict the future it's best to be as prepared as possible, you know? Now why don't we pick up your husband and get something to eat."

They meet up with Evan at their temporary quarters, heading into the settlement for one of the small neighborhood eateries that had popped up after the battle. At the concert they happen across Xiaoli, who joins them afterwards for _klah _back at Becky and Daniel's place.

"Hard to believe you three are the ones who will be stepping through the Gate together into a new galaxy," Daniel says with a wistful look in his eyes. "I envy the thought of the discoveries you'll be making. But I also know you'll do the department proud."

Xiaoli stares at him, wide-eyed. "_Wǒ de mā ya! _You mean you never even applied? Surely you of all people would've been the first to sign up."

"I know, and I don't deny I was tempted for a while. But as it turns out I have a more compelling reason to stay." He winks at Becky and gives her hand a gentle squeeze before raising his mug in a toast. "_Abschied und viel Glück_. We'll miss you."

"Say rather _Bis wir uns wieder treffen_," Alex counters with a smile and a glance to Evan. "We'll miss you guys too."

"As will I. I hope to hear of your wedding, one of these days," Xiaoli adds with a sly twinkle in his eyes. The others laugh as both Becky and Daniel flush and duck their heads. "A toast of my own." The wily anthropologist raises his cup. _"Wèile hǎo péngyǒu hé měihǎo de lǚchéng. Gānbēi." _

_"Gānbēi_," the others reply.

* * *

Departure day, at last.

The giant hangar containing the Stargate- and much of the compound outside- is filled with expedition members and well-wishers plus pallets full of required supplies. Everything arranged in optimal order, to get through the Gate as quickly and efficiently as possible. Even powered by a modified generator containing a freshly-made ZPM they only have one chance to dial the address and make contact.

Out of hundreds of applicants these are the ones chosen, military and scientists alike as well as qualified civilians from the settlement after a rigorous training program. Hand-picked to represent their world and galaxy, willing to risk their very lives and make tough decisions because of their dedication to a higher cause, whether humanity's survival or just "for Science!" as Rodney once grandly declared.

Faces both familiar and unfamiliar nod and smile at her, all wearing newly-designed uniforms of either charcoal-and-black for the military or dove-gray jacket and trousers with panels of red, blue or yellow (the division colors reminiscent of Star Trek, and not her idea) for everyone else. On every right shoulder is a patch with the expedition's insignia, the left with the planet-peak-and-circle as a reminder of their original homeworld.

If they were still on Old Earth and the address had been discovered another way this assembly would probably resemble a mini version of the United Nations, with shoulder patches of different countries. But the planet's gone, erasing with it any distinctions of nationality, socioeconomic status, gender or even skin tone. They're all one people now, one race- the Tau'ri version of humanity- and citizens of New Earth. Nothing more, and certainly nothing less.

Becky can only hope they have what it takes to survive out there. It breaks her heart but at the same time she has a gut feeling they're the right mix for this undertaking, whatever the result. She swallows the lump in her throat as she memorizes the scene before her on this momentous day, those who are staying as well as those who are going:

Elizabeth and John, watching with identical smirks as Rodney kibitzes Siler while he works on the ZPM-modified generator and connects it to the Gate.

Daniel and Evan helping Alex and Xiaoli shoulder their backpacks.

Carson and Radek tucking last-minute items into crates.

Sumner exchanging salutes with Jack.

Teal'c and Janet observing everything from the control area next to Walter.

Aiden fist-bumping with Ed Perkins.

Mac and Sam tinkering with the MALP assigned to send back data indicating whether or not whatever's on the other side can support human life.

And so many other friends, acquaintances and colleagues, all together under the same roof. Hopefully not for the last time.

Becky takes a deep breath, puts on as brave a face as possible as she makes her way through the organized chaos, dispensing advice and goodbyes, hugs and handshakes.

"_Dobrá cesta _and _beannachd leat_, old friends," she tells Radek and Carson, embracing each in turn. "Stay safe. Take care of yourselves."

"Aye, you too, lass."

"And to you the same, _drahé srdce_."

Elizabeth and John both grin at Becky, their excitement contagious.

"Almost time," he says. "What's in the case, another guitar? Aw, you shouldn't have."

She rolls her eyes, knowing full well his own guitar (and Johnny Cash poster) are already packed with his personal effects. If the Pegasus Galaxy has its own version of surfing he'll be a happy man, she has no doubt.

"Nope, something better." She hefts the carrying case in her hands, setting it on a crate. "A going-away present for you guys from me and Huy-Braesealis." She opens it with a flourish to reveal three brand-new ZPMs nestled within, retrieved from the city yesterday with Jack's help. Nearby scientists gather around, murmuring in wonder.

"Are those what I think they are?" Rodney hurries over, shoving John to one side.

"Yep, fully powered and ready to go. Assuming the city's intact these should come in handy. Don't know how long they'll last once you hook them up, but at least you'll have power right off the bat if you need it."

He says nothing, eyes only for the ZPMs until John pokes him in the ribs. "Sheesh, where are your manners?" Becky chuckles, handing the case to a grateful Zelenka.

Elizabeth beams at her, much more gracious. "That's very thoughtful of you and Huy-Braesealis, Becky. Thank you, and for all your help in planning as well."

"My pleasure," she says, returning the hug. "And thank you for everything you've taught me. Best of luck in Atlantis."

"Take care, little sis," John says when it's his turn, patting her back.

"You too, big brother. Be good, okay?"

"I'll do my best, though I won't make any guarantees." Snarky as ever.

She laughs and turns to Rodney. "So, how does it feel being the smartest man in two galaxies?"

"Pretty good," puffing up as usual. John clears his throat and McKay has the grace to look at least somewhat abashed. "You know, Grahme," he says tentatively, "you're okay."

"So are you." They shake hands, a little awkwardly. Never been close like her and John but underneath the bluster and biting sarcasm his heart's in the right place. "You two take good care of each other, you hear?"

"We will," John says with a wink.

"All right, campers. Ready to get this show on the road?" Jack approaches with a jaunty step.

"Just about, General," Elizabeth says. "I'd like to say a few words before we begin dialing."

"Go for it."

She hops onto the ramp, giving a rousing speech. In conclusion she adds, "Every one of you volunteered for this and on behalf of the SGC I thank you. You are our best and brightest, and also the bravest. Almost four years ago we left one world behind for good, and we are about to leave another. Our mission has a dual purpose- to explore the second city of the Ancients and the galaxy it resides in, and if all goes well to build a colony, further ensuring our collective survival. I hope we can return one day with news of a fabulous discovery, but as all of you know, we may never be able to. I'm offering one last chance to withdraw your participation, without blame or dishonor."

No one does.

Becky's breath catches in her throat. This is it.

Weir signals to Walter. "Dialing sequence initiated," he announces.

The group quickly organizes itself as the chevrons encode in order, military on one side, civilians on the other. Becky falls back with Daniel, Sam and Jack to the control area. The buzz of excitement in the room is palpable now.

"Chevron eight encoded!" Walter declares. The wormhole engages and the hanger resounds with the sound of cheers and applause.

A thrill of anticipation as the MALP obediently rolls through the blue shimmer by remote control. Within seconds data begins to pour in from the other side. "We have telemetry," Rodney informs them, looking at the readings. "There's a large space that looks intact. Gravity...oxygen...no measurable toxins."

"Viable life support," Sam confirms.

"Oh, yeah. Everything we need. No turning back now."

Jack leans into the microphone. "Atlantis Expedition, you have a go. Good luck and godspeed." He straightens and salutes, all of the military personnel following suit.

Becky's reminded of a saying by a friend of Mac's named Abe, an unlikely spy whom Mac helped once on the way to his grandson's Bar Mitzvah: "_Geyn besholem, aun kumen besholem. Zay gezunt._"

"Yiddish," Daniel explains to the others. "Go safely, and come safely. Be well."

"Amen," Walter murmurs.

Elizabeth looks back, smiles and nods at them in farewell. Then she and Sumner pass through together, heads held high. With a final wink and waggle of fingers for Becky John squares his shoulders and falls in behind his CO with Rodney as Chief Scientist beside him. The rest follow suit, military and civilian together, side by side.

Becky's eyes mist, recalling the week before Zero Hour and watching the refugees move in a steady stream up the ramp to their new home, leaving Old Earth behind for good.

Just like that time she's not alone. Even though some of her unconventional extended family have gone off to seek their own adventure the rest has remained here- Jack and Sam, Mac and Janet, even Teal'c.

And especially her raven. Thank goodness.

Yet an inexplicable wave of sadness threatens to overwhelm her, as if she'll never see her friends again.

Which is ridiculous, surely. They'll find a way to get back in contact with Atlantis, sooner or later.

No one gets left behind. That was a truism at the SGC under Cheyenne Mountain and the same applies here on New Earth. They're all in this together, now more than ever.

She glances up at the handsome features of her beloved, a wistful expression on his face as he peers intently into the event horizon as if he could see Atlantis on the other side. "Still want to go with them?" she asks quietly.

Daniel looks down at her, smiles and shakes his head. His arm comes around her shoulders to pull her against him. "I've made my choice," he says, soft but certain.

"I hope we'll get to visit them someday."

"I hope so, too."

Becky rests her head on his chest as they watch the last remaining members of the expedition disappear through the Gate, followed by pallet upon pallet of supplies pushed through by marines. She focuses on the warmth of his body and the steady heartbeat in his chest and closes her eyes, savoring the intimacy of the moment.

"You kids okay over there?" Jack asks them, with a fond, knowing smirk.

"We're fine," Daniel replies, the look he gives his friend and former teammate clear and steady, without regret.

Mac looks a little pensive himself. "You know, I wish I could've gone with them."

Jack snorts. "Hell of a time to say that now." Mac grins and the others chuckle.

Becky relaxes at their banter, knowing that no matter what happens it's going to be amazing, both here and there. Sure, there will be mistakes and disagreements and pain. Challenges and tragedies of all kinds.

But there will also be triumphs, and pleasant surprises and companionship. Moments of pure wonder and joy.

That's the kind of universe they're lucky to live in.

Eventually the last of the pallets are pushed through. Elizabeth's voice comes in over the radio. "General O'Neill, greetings from Atlantis Base and the Pegasus Galaxy. We're all here safe and sound. You may cut power to the Gate."

"Looks like that's my cue," Jack mutters as he strides toward the Gate, one of the last bottles of carefully-preserved Old Earth champagne in hand with a tag tied around the neck. He kneels on the ramp and gently rolls it through the event horizon, grumbling about his knees as he straightens.

The wormhole to the second city of the Ancients winks out to nothingness.

Jack surveys the lingering personnel in the hangar and clears his throat. "That's all, folks. They've got their work cut out for them, and we've got ours. Let's get on with it."

Walter, Siler and other technicians begin their usual post-activation inspections and adjustments in a space that feels empty in comparison to just five minutes ago.

Becky and Daniel linger for a bit, imagining what the expedition must be doing at that moment, the discoveries they're already making.

Mac comes up to them. "Buy you two a cup of _klah_?"

They share a glance. "Sure," Daniel says with a shrug. "Why not?"

One final look back at the Gate before they turn away, and a wish for the continued health and well-being of the Atlantis Expedition.

They'll be all right, Becky fervently hopes.

They have to be.

* * *

_Notes: My thoughts and wishes for good health are with you all during this difficult time, dear readers. I'm grateful we have wonderful archives like this one and A03 and all these fandoms and stories to keep us sane. Please stay well and take good care of yourselves. _

_Many, many thanks to Sourlander and the excellent Loyalties series (great stories, check them out!) on AO3 for the loan of the OC Dr. Alexandra Lorne, née Woolston. I hope I've done her justice._

_ Brief reference to S7 E07, "Enemy Mine" and classic MacGyver S7 E1, "Honest Abe." And another variation of SGA S1 E1, "Rising", of course._

_Lavondis is actually an homage to the novel Lavondyss by Robert Holdstock in his hauntingly beautiful Mythago Wood series. _

_Please see A Linguist's Guide to New Earth on A03 for translations._


	22. Connectivity

\- Year 5 of Settlement-

Daniel peers at Becky and Jonas Quinn over his glasses as they chat during the lunch break. The Kelownan's about her age, earnest and clean-cut and- even after two years in the scientific exchange program- still almost absurdly eager to learn everything about Old Earth and the settlement.

Seeing them together makes him uneasy, which is strange. Never given much thought to the age difference between himself and Becky before (seven years, give or take) but it sure makes him feel like an old man in comparison.

Surprisingly Jack's never teased him about being a cradle-snatcher. Then again, there's about thirteen years or so difference between him and Sam, isn't there? Pot calling kettle, and all that.

"So the city really speaks to you when you're not in the control chair?"

"It's the AI, not the city," she corrects him, rather matter-of-fact about it now. "But yeah, after a fashion it does."

"What does it sound like?"

Becky takes a bite of blue apple and chews reflectively. "He, not it. And kinda like my father. I only hear him in my mind, you see. Not out loud."

"Oh." Quinn seems rather disappointed. "I didn't know computers can do that."

"Ours aren't at that level either. But Huy-Braesealis was created by the Ancients at the height of their civilization, and by then they were developing their mental capabilities as a prelude to Ascension so I'm not surprised it has a telepathic component. Granted, only those with the ATA gene can access Ancient tech, like myself and my uncles. Which has proved a useful safeguard, when you think about it. I hate to think what would've happened if the Goa'uld were able to use the city or anything else we've discovered over the years."

He shudders. "Me, too. Pretty sophisticated, all the same."

"Yeah. And durable, considering how long they've been in operation. The Ancients built the Stargate network, remember." Jonas nods. "Huy-Braesealis was actually in hibernation mode before we visited for the first time, and..." She pauses, head cocked as if listening to something. "Huh. Interesting."

"What is it?"

"Talk about timing. Huy-Braesealis just requested I visit the _principem pyrína computatrum_\- his main computer core- but didn't say why. Weird."

"Can I come with you? It's just that, well, we have experts on Kelowna who theorize about AIs all the time but I've never seen a real, live one in action."

She considers, then shrugs assent. "Sure. Why not?"

His face lights up like a puppy given a favorite chew toy. It's clear he's harboring a crush on her. Of course, he's got it pretty bad for Sam too, even though he must be fully aware by now it'll never be requited by either one.

A fond smile crosses Daniel's lips. He certainly can't fault the younger man's taste. Both women are brilliant, driven, and remain completely clueless about their own attractiveness.

Thank god Becky has no intention of reciprocating. Their love remains as strong as ever even after five years together with no signs of waning. Which is far longer than any previous relationship he's had, including Sha're and the years he spent searching for her.

Maybe it's time to make it official.

He's been thinking off and on about proposing anyway, but the issue's been tabled for the past couple years due to missions and other external matters- facing off against Ba'al and his minions, rooting out Replicators all over the galaxy with the Asgard, and keeping an eye on the Lucian Alliance. When not accompanying him offworld, working in the lab, attending council meetings or visiting the city like today Becky's been assisting Major Fredrick Begay's SG-9 in negotiations with dozens of nonaligned worlds, generally laying out the groundwork to make her vision of galactic commonwealth a reality. Her anthropological training and lessons from the illustrious Elizabeth Weir before the departure of the Atlantis Expedition have only reinforced her credentials as a diplomat.

So yeah, never a dull moment as Jack might say. Hardly any free time to ponder their future.

Until now, anyway.

A gentle touch on his arm. He blinks down at Becky. "Daniel? You okay?"

"Um, yeah. Sorry. What were you saying?"

"Just asking if you wanted to come with us to see the computer core." Her smile is tolerant, having gotten lost in her own mind a time or two herself. Another reason why he loves her. No one understands him like she does.

"Sure. But we should notify Edwards where we're going first," nodding to where the colonel's sitting with his team. Good thing SG-11's free to accompany them today.

"Good idea." She walks over to Edwards, who greets her in his usual gruff but courteous manner.

Jonas watches her, admiring. Daniel can't help but feel a little irritated at the Kelownan's abiding interest, though he tries hard not to show it out of courtesy. Which is vaguely irksome in and of itself, as he's never thought of himself as the jealous boyfriend type. But save for Sha're he's never cared about anyone quite so much, either.

Becky returns, flashing a thumbs-up. "C'mon guys, let's get outta here before he changes his mind."

* * *

The transporter opens onto what resembles the control room with consoles and monitors along the walls interspersed with inscriptions in Ancient and what resembles elaborate circuit diagrams. In the center an octagon-shaped, large pillar of pure crystal is situated on the dais instead of a control chair, stretching from floor to ceiling.

Everything brightens at Becky's presence, the city recognizing its _Domina_. She cocks her head again as if listening, then goes over to a nearby console which emits an especially inviting glow. Lost in contact with the AI as she automatically touches controls on the console.

"Does this always happen?" Jonas asks. "Should we be worried?"

"She'll be fine." Even so a shiver runs down Daniel's spine. Though she asserts the portion of Huy-Braesealis in her mind acts as a mitigator every time she goes under he worries nonetheless.

A panel with some very intriguing symbols catches his eye and he pulls out his notebook and pencil.

"Dr. Jackson!"

He spins around to find Becky sprawled on the floor, eyes closed. "What happened?"

Jonas swallows. "I'm not sure. She moved away from the monitor and placed her hand directly on that," pointing to the crystal column. "A whole lot of lights kinda swirled inside, then before I could do anything there was a flash and she just collapsed."

Daniel kneels, gently touching her cheek. "Becky? Can you hear me? Wake up now. Come on."

No response. He carefully turns her over, frowning at the blood darkening the hair on the side of her head, probably from where she hit the floor. He places two fingers against her neck, checks her pulse. Faint but there, at least. "She's still alive."

"Thank the gods," Jonas sighs. Daniel fleetingly wonders if he's referring to Goa'uld or Asgard, then gives himself a mental shake. No time to get distracted with idle speculations.

He reaches for his radio. "Colonel Edwards?"

"Go ahead, Dr. Jackson."

"Dr. Grahme's been rendered unconscious. We need to get her back to base right away."

"Copy that. We'll meet you in the atrium. DeSoto will be standing by in the Jumper. Edwards out."

"Do you need any help?" Jonas looks as anxious as he feels.

"No, thanks. I've got her." Daniel slips his arms under Becky, mentally thanking Jack for insisting on additional weight training sessions after the first expedition to the city. Watching Teal'c carry her when he couldn't was kinda humiliating, but he's in better shape now and she's not a burden by any means.

"How will the transporter activate if she's unconscious? Neither of us have the Ancient gene."

Damn it, he's right. "Not sure. Hopefully her presence should be enough to make it work for us."

As it turns out the transporter doesn't until Jonas gently lifts her limp hand and touches it to the line of Ancient text indicating the atrium. He looks pleased at his cleverness but Daniel only has eyes for his beloved.

Edwards, Woeste and Ritter are waiting for them as promised, the junior officers with a litter from the Jumper. "Be careful with her, please."

"No worries, Dr. Jackson. We got this." They ease her onto the litter and carry her out of the tower. In the Jumper Rathbone's already in the copilot seat doing preflight checks and DeSoto as team medic has his kit open and ready. Once inside they strap the litter to a bench and he does a quick exam, cleaning the wound and applying a gauze pad to her head.

Edwards frowns at her in concern on the way to take the pilot's seat. "She gonna be okay, doc?"

Daniel opens his mouth to reply then shuts it when he realizes he's talking to DeSoto, an M.D. in his own right. "She's got a hematoma, sir, but her vital signs are stable for now. Dr. Fraiser will have to give a more thorough exam, so we'd better get back to base as quickly as possible."

"Understood. Buckle up, people."

All the way back Daniel can only hold onto Becky's limp hand and hope she snaps out of it soon.

_Please be okay, sweet hummingbird. Please. I need you. _

* * *

"Let me get this straight. The AI told her to go down to the computer core, she touched something and then just collapsed?" Jack grimaces. "For crying out loud, Danny. You two have been together way too long for her to pick up your bad habits."

Daniel glares at him but it's half-hearted at best. He's too distracted by Becky's pale, quiet form in the hospital bed, a white bandage on the side of her head.

On the other side of the bed Mac sighs and passes a hand over his face. Sam, Teal'c and Jonas hover nearby with varying attitudes of concern.

"So what's going on, doc?" Jack asks Janet from where he's leaning against the railing at the foot of the bed. "She gonna be okay?"

Janet hangs the stethoscope back around her neck, removes the blood pressure cuff, makes notes on a clipboard. Glances at the display showing the latest scans, her mouth settling into a thin line. "I can't make any speculations or promises at this point, you understand. We drained and patched up the hematoma on her head and there's no sign of further intracranial bleeding, nor of any abnormalities in her brain. Because she's been rendered unconscious before by contact with the AI with no problems I'm reluctant to take any drastic measures just yet. She could come out of it at any time, but for now it's wait and see."

"It's my fault," Jonas moans, wringing his hands. "I should've stopped her, should've gotten her out of the way in time."

"It's not your fault," Daniel reassures him. "Nothing you could've done differently."

"But still-"

"Hey, relax." Mac interjects. "Becky's a trooper. She'll be just fine."

"Always a first time for everything, though." Jack sighs, not even bothering to hide his anxiety. "Really hate the waiting part."

"We all do. Don't worry, she'll come out of it soon. And when she does I'll be right here." Daniel picks up the blanket, settles it over her and tenderly kisses her cheek.

Wishing all the while he could take his own words to heart as easily.

* * *

It's 0130 when Daniel wanders into the infirmary after yet another restless night. He's tried to lose himself in research to keep his mind occupied, but it's not working.

Teal'c is keeping vigil by Becky's bed, hands folded in his lap and eyes closed, apparently deep in _kel'no'reem_. The only sounds are the hum of the monitors and subdued movements of the night shift nurses tending to other patients outside the private room.

Out of respect Daniel remains where he is at the foot of her bed, dismally regarding the breathing tube in her nose, the IV bags hooked up with nutrients and saline, the slow rise and fall of her chest and the steady beeping of the monitor.

Four days since she collapsed. Feels more like four years, especially this late at night.

Dark alien eyes open. "Daniel Jackson."

"Hey, Teal'c. Any change?"

"There is none. She remains unconscious. Are you relieving my watch?"

"Yeah, guess I am," he says with a sigh. "Too wound up to work otherwise."

"Indeed. I will now retire to my quarters." Teal'c rises from the chair, gently placing a large hand on her shoulder for a brief moment. "Awaken soon, Becky Grahme. You are missed." With a nod to Daniel he leaves.

Daniel assumes his seat, opening his book and sighing. He's used to being here for an extended stay himself from time to time but usually as a patient, with Becky in this very chair waiting anxiously for him to wake up instead of the other way around. Not much fun when the tables are turned.

Except for tonight when he gave into Jack's urgings he hasn't left her side for very long. Mac comes by the most often to keep him company, followed by Sam and Teal'c when duties permit. Jonas ferries books and files in and out of the room without complaint. Jack postpones their missions, brings trays from the refectory, hauls him over to the showers when he's been deemed particularly ripe.

Janet's strongly hinted more than once- not technically ordering, but close- that Daniel get some sleep at home but he's choosing to ignore her for one very simple reason.

Thing is he _ can't_, when Becky's not there. What started as just another place to live has become a home thanks to her. The idea of being alone in bed without his beloved hummingbird is simply not worth contemplating.

There's no physical reason as to why she remains unconscious, according to Janet. Aside from the hematoma there's no other sign of neurological damage. Her vitals remain stable and her pupils respond normally, so all they can do right now is keep her under observation and hope things don't get worse.

Earlier that day Sam had suggested contacting the Asgard for assistance- they were the ones who saved Jack from dying of induced information overload, after all- but that option was shot down by Jack himself: "They've got enough on their plate with rebuilding their fleet after dealing with Fifth and his Replicator minions, Carter. Let's save that as a last resort, okay?"

Now Daniel's wondering if last resort measures might be all that _can_ save her at this point. The hope of her waking grows ever less as the minutes tick by.

He sighs and quietly scoots the chair closer to the bed, resting his head on folded arms beside her quiescent body. Ordinarily he takes a secret pleasure in watching over her while she sleeps. He'd never say she snores but the occasional soft sigh reassures him she's still breathing. The memory of holding her in his arms after blissful lovemaking has sustained him more than once during a mission when all hope appears to be gone.

To his surprise he also enjoys the more mundane aspects of their relationship, never failing to learn something unique and exciting about her, or them, or even himself after five years together. Every time he thinks he's finally deciphered the mysteries of her body, mind or spirit he comes across some new facet that makes him want to uncover more, like she's a fascinatingly complex language or a fragment covered in symbols he can't yet translate. And oh, he loves the journey of discovery.

They're both idealists, yet realistic enough not to hold each other to impossibly high standards. Nevertheless he's certain what they've created together is nothing short of perfection. Not bad for a couple of introverted geeks, he thinks with a wry smile.

Hidden deep in a desk drawer at home is a velvet-lined box containing his parents' wedding rings. Not that he ever expected to use them after Sarah dumped him and Sha're wouldn't have understood their symbolism anyway (with a shudder he shies away from the painful memory of her pregnancy with Shifu). But he had a gut feeling even before the Big Quake that he ought to retrieve them from the safe deposit box regardless.

Though they've been perfectly content as a couple to live only in the moment, there's no denying the notion of raising a family and growing old together is more and more appealing. Which even he admits is unusual, considering his upbringing. Claire and Melburn Jackson may have been brilliant archaeologists but they weren't exactly the most conscientious of parents, leaving him to be essentially raised by nannies while they pursued their work all over the globe.

At least what happened to them was quick, without leaving either one to experience the anxiety of a bedside vigil, the endless wondering if their beloved would ever open their eyes again. The fear their loved one might slip further and further away until there's nothing left binding them to life, no silver cord or _Ka _or _Ba_-

He gives himself a mental shake, disgusted by the maudlin turn of his thoughts. Enough with the brooding already. Becky would not be pleased.

_Keep your feet on the ground, Danny._

If- no, when- she wakes he'll get down on one knee right here in the infirmary and beg her to marry him. To be his partner, his life's companion for always.

He's already lost one beloved, and the thought of losing another-

Tears sting his eyes and he squeezes them shut against the pain.

He honestly doesn't know how he can go on without her. And even if he does it'll be so very hard.

Left alone again, as always.

He swallows back a sob. Time to get a grip, for god's sake.

It won't happen. She'll come back to him. She must.

"Daniel? You okay?"

He wipes his eyes with the back of his hand, clears his throat. "I'm fine, Mac. You?"

MacGyver gives a one-sided shrug, shoves his hands into the pockets of his brown leather jacket over the uniform black t-shirt and green utility trousers. Dark circles under his eyes hint at yet another rough night. "Couldn't sleep. Mind if I join you?"

"No, go right ahead."

He takes his customary seat on the other side of the bed and stretches out his long legs, both brothers having perfected an air of casual nonchalance concealing a constant readiness for action. Absently tucks hair streaked with gray- longer than his brother's though not as shaggy as around Zero Hour- around an ear. "Any change?"

"Not really."

Mac's broad shoulders slump. "Figured as much." He's been just as worried about Becky, no surprise given the closeness of their bond since she was a baby.

They've spoken privately off and on before about his experiences as her guardian. "Domestic Adventures" he once wryly called them, rescues from kidnappings by bad guys and hair-raising escapades amidst schoolwork and adolescent drama. Though even back then she was more thoughtful and conscientious than most of her peers, which doesn't surprise him in the least.

"Look," he says after a while, "there's nothing you can do right now. Why don't you go home and get some rest, I'll take over."

Daniel shakes his head. "I don't think I can, Mac. I'm afraid if I walk away, she won't be here when I get back." Painful to admit but there it is.

Mac spreads his hands wide. "Hey, I get it, believe me. But you're no good to her if you collapse. Jan says her vitals are stable, she's in no danger of dying." He falters a little on the last word, a flash of despair showing on his face before resuming its customary stoic smoothness. "I'm just saying some time away would do you good, that's all."

"You sound like Jack. Damned persistent."

"Stubbornness runs in the family," Mac dryly informs him, "as I'm sure you've figured out by now." He pauses. "All I know is Becky wouldn't like it if she finds out you've worn yourself to a frazzle worrying about her. Heck, she's done the same whenever I wound up in the hospital, and for good reason."

Daniel nods, glumly. "I see your point. Okay." Not caring what it looks like, he leans over and places a soft kiss on her unresponsive lips and whispers, "Come back to me soon, _nire koliburua, nire bihotza_. I need you."

Mac quirks an eyebrow. "Basque?"

A somewhat embarrassed shrug. "Just a thing we do." He can't help the flush on his cheeks. Sharing endearments in other languages has always been a sweet and intimate way of keeping them alive, if only between themselves.

"Yeah." He waves Daniel away. "Go on, get outta here. I'll let you know if anything happens."

"Thanks."

"No problem." He pulls a paperback Western from a jacket pocket. "See ya later."

Daniel turns and flees the room, not daring to look at anyone else. Feeling guilty for abandoning his post despite Mac's reassurances.

He's halfway across the darkened compound when he realizes how the troubleshooter- in his quiet, understated way- could convince him to do what Jack and Janet themselves could not. Much as Becky herself does.

Like uncle, like niece.

* * *

"Hey, Danny?"

The radio startles Daniel out of a fitful sleep. Instead of going home he's settled for the couch in the scientists' lounge. Struggling with the blanket only causes him to roll off right onto the floor. "Ow."

"Danny? You awake?"

He sighs, reaching for his glasses before hitting the button on the receiver. "I am now, Jack. What is it?"

"Sorry to tell ya, but Becky's gone."

He swallows. There's that familiar sick feeling in the pit of his stomach, the bottom dropping out of his world. "When? How?"

"A few minutes ago. Mac hasn't a clue where she's gotten to, claims he'd just stepped into the restroom for a sec."

He realizes he's been holding his breath, lets it out in relief. "You mean she's still alive?"

"Wasn't that what I just said? She's gone from the infirmary. Sheesh, whaddya think I meant?"

"Nothing, I just thought... Never mind. I'll be right over."

When he gets there Becky's bed is empty. Covers thrown back, glasses missing from the bedside table, monitor leads, oxygen and IV tubes dangling onto the floor.

Jack raises an eyebrow. "Record time, Danny. Asleep in the lab again?"

Daniel scowls. "Jack, I've got no patience for this right now. What the hell's going on?"

Mac steps forward, shamefaced. "Daniel, I'm so sorry. I swear I was only gone for a minute and...I mean, if I had any notion she'd do something like this-"

He waves him silent. "It's okay. Not your fault."

Janet frowns. "What I don't understand is how she could've gotten away without anyone noticing. Or where she's thinking of going at this hour in her condition."

"Must be sleepwalking again," Jack comments. "Maybe she's building us some kinda Ancient spacecraft from spare parts. If so, we're naming it the _Enterprise_. " Both Mac and Daniel roll their eyes. "What? It's not like anyone's using the name right now."

"Jack..."

"Daniel..."

Sam arrives in a hurry, breathless. "Sir, there's been a break-in at my lab. Someone's stolen my toolkit, a power cable, several control crystals and the spare ZPM."

He sighs. "Just peachy, Carter. When it rains, it pours."

The alarm klaxon blares. "Attention. Unauthorized activity in the Gateroom. Repeat, unauthorized activity in the Gateroom."

Jack's radio chirps. "General O'Neill? Sergeant Choi in the Gateroom. I didn't know what else to say on the PA, but you have to come see this. Dr. Grahme's doing something to the DHD."

Jack's brow furrows. "Well, that's a first. On our way."

They hurry to the hangar. The swing shift technician in the control area greets them. "Sorry, sir," she says sheepishly. "I just turned away for a minute and-" Gestures in the direction of the DHD to the left of the quiescent Gate, long unused in favor of the dialing computer.

Becky's hunkering down beside it, still in white hospital garb. Tinkering with the insides then stretching and attaching a black cable from it to the Gate.

With an uncertain glance at Jack a marine approaches her. Without looking she holds out her right hand in his direction, palm out. He's shoved well away from her to the floor as if by an invisible force.

Sam's eyes widen. "Holy Hannah."

Jack's eyebrows rise to his hairline. "Huh. That's something."

Mac frowns. "What the heck's going on? What is she doing?"

Daniel wonders the same, though he has a sneaking suspicion it has to do with Huy-Braesealis and what happened to her in the computer core. "You're right, Jack. She's sleepwalking, like what happened when she wrote down the eight-symbol address to Atlantis. This isn't conscious on her part."

"Talk about a night for firsts, Danny. Now you're admitting I'm right for once." Daniel glares at Jack, who just grins.

Two more marines approach Becky but are instantly repelled the same way. "A most effective means of nonlethal defense," Teal'c observes.

"Yeah. Stand down, everyone," Jack orders into the microphone. "No point in the rest of you getting hurt."

"Sir, it may be she's applying a similar principle to the IDS," Sam suggests, "using subsonic waves of a stronger type than infrasound."

Jack frowns. "Can you tell from here what else she's doing, Carter? I have a feeling you're not gonna get a closer look right now."

"It could be she's connecting the ZPM into the DHD. Converting it into a power coupling or two-way connection of some sort."

"Yeah, but why?" Mac wonders. "For what purpose?"

Jack sighs. "Great. You two have been a bad influence. She's become a stealth ninja engineer."

"Not funny, Jack."

Having finished her work Becky replaces the cover, setting her hands on the top of the DHD. Briefly glances once in their direction with an unreadable expression before she starts punching at symbols on the top.

Daniel's stomach gives a lurch as he counts. Eight times.

Enough for a transgalactic crossing.

Suddenly everything's crystal clear, though he still has no idea why.

"Jack, open the iris," he blurts out.

"Why?"

"I know where she's going. She's dialing the address for Atlantis."

Jack's eyes widen. "Do it," he tells Choi. "Perkins," to the nearby marine sergeant, "fetch their go bags from the archaeology lab, pronto."

"Yes, sir." He's off like a light.

"Jack..."

"No need to say anything, Daniel. It's obvious now she's on a mission for the city, and you're going with her."

Sam looks at them, brows furrowed. "Sir, we haven't had word from the Atlantis Expedition for two years. We have no idea if they're even alive."

"I know that, Carter. Danny, you're not prepped for this but neither is she, so whatever's in your go bags will have to do. No matter what happens I want you to have her back at all times. No argument, okay? I mean it."

He's relieved, at least a little. "You won't get any from me. Thanks."

"Wow, another first. Definitely gonna mark this on my calendar." The usual dry wit to conceal his concern.

Becky hits the red central crystal and the Gate springs to life, the inner ring turning of its own accord, chevrons locking in steady sequence.

Sam types on the keyboard, frowns at the readings. "She's rigged the DHD to override the dialing computer. We can't stop it."

"Shouldn't we be waking her or something?" Mac wonders.

"Not a good idea if she's in a fugue state," Janet reminds him. "Where's the power coming from?"

"Apparently the ZPM, but also the residual neutrino energy already stored in the Stargate." Sam's eyes widen. "Of course! Like what happens with the emplacements for the _Astria_, to power the shield. That might be enough to provide the extra push for a successful wormhole connection to the Pegasus Galaxy."

Perkins arrives with the go bags in either hand and Daniel takes them, nodding his thanks.

"Looks like you're going to Atlantis after all," Jack quips, then sobers. "Who knows what shape the expedition's in after two years of isolation but your subcutaneous transmitters should provide the necessary IDCs for them to lower whatever defenses they've got set up, if they even have any. Just be careful, that's an order."

The wormhole engages with the usual _kawoosh_ and settles. "Power levels holding steady," Sam notes with a touch of surprise in her voice. "Everything functioning just like with the emplacements."

With everyone watching Becky moves slowly onto the ramp and pauses, her petite form silhouetted against brilliant blue. To Daniel it appears as if she's waiting for something.

Or some_one_.

For him, perhaps? Is their connection so deep and profound that even the AI recognizes its necessity?

Speculation for another time. Right now she needs him by her side, and he's prepared to do just that.

Mac stares into the event horizon, bites his lower lip. "Daniel?" he ventures.

"Hmm?"

"Whatever happens over there... Just take good care of our princess, okay?" Jack's eyes are filled with a similar unease.

"I'll do my best," he promises, and they nod in return. That's all they can hope for.

Sam frowns. "What a minute. She still has my toolkit."

"Consider it a loan, Carter. Probably thinks she'll need it over there." Jack nudges him. "You're up, Danny. Good luck."

He jogs over to join her. "I'm here, Becky. Lead the way."

Saying nothing in return she walks straight into the event horizon without hesitation.

After one last glance over his shoulder at Jack and the others he does the same.


	23. Sister City

-Atlantis, Pegasus Galaxy. Year 2, _Post Resurgens_-

_~Dominus.~ _

A thread of silvery blue-green slowly insinuates itself within a delightful dream of riding that perfect pipeline on the gorgeous, unspoiled, white-sand beach of M3B-216.

_~Dominus.~ _

_Sleeping. Go 'way. _

_~Dominus, please awaken. You are needed.~ _

_Why? The long-range scans are clear of Hive ships and the city's not in danger. Let me sleep. _

_~I would like to do nothing more, Dominus, but time is of the essence. You are correct, there are no signs of the vitam vescentium on the scanners and all is well within the city according to my sensors. However, I have been notified something important will be approaching by pons astris soon.~ _

_Is it dangerous? _

_~Quite the contrary. I recommend you lower the aspida and allow the astria porta to open. You will find it beneficial.~ _

_...Okay, 'Lantis, whatever you say. Thanks for the heads-up. _

_~Your servant, Dominus.~ _

John opens his eyes, blinking up at the ceiling for a few moments before raising himself on his elbows.

Great. The first peaceful night's sleep they've had in a while and now this.

With a quiet sigh he regards the darkened quarters, the lights of the city shining obliquely through the window. Rodney beside him in bed, his snoring counterpart to the eternal roar of the ocean outside.

That the AI wakes him out of a sound sleep from time to time is nothing new. Though it's usually when the city's in peril, not for something non-threatening. Which is unusual in and of itself.

Then again, the definition of unusual has turned out to be pretty flexible in the Pegasus Galaxy.

Just look at his own life, for god's sake. Having to take over after his CO had been rapidly aged by the damned life-sucking Wraith. Becoming _Dominus_ for the AI of an Ancient city, with a portion of itself tucked away in a corner of his mind and invisible to scans.

A shiver down his spine as he recalls the first electrifying contact with 'Lantis in the control chair, the dizzying rush like surfing a mighty wave. The dazzle of quicksilver thought sounding him out, taking his measure. Currents of unfathomable knowledge dragging him hither and yon.

Just when he feared he might drown a soothing feminine voice- reminiscent of his mother, of all people- hailed him as _Dominus_ of Atlantis, the City of Water, welcoming him home as if from a long exile.

How easily the city rose to the surface of the ocean at his command. The palpable sense of elation as three ZPMs give her full power after millennia of dormancy under the waves.

Briefly he wonders if Becky felt a similar frisson when she was inducted as _Domina_ to Huy-Braesealis. He'd love to get in touch with his little sister-in-spirit someday and compare notes. But due to the ongoing struggle with the Wraith and a lack of viable ZPMs to restore the city to full power after losing two they can't spare enough juice to dial up a wormhole covering the vast distance between galaxies even if they absolutely had to.

Thankfully circumstances haven't gotten that dire but just in case Rodney and Radek are working on preparing an encrypted databurst as kind of a message-in-a-bottle and farewell-to-New-Earth all in one. They've been lucky so far but if there's anything two years on their own in the Pegasus Galaxy has taught them it's that they can never rest on their laurels for too long as something worse is always waiting in the wings.

Hopefully this won't turn out to be one of those days.

John finally sits up, sighing. Runs a hand through unruly hair before reaching for the black t-shirt and charcoal trousers discarded on the floor hours earlier next to his partner's blue and dove-gray, both uniforms somewhat the worse for wear.

Rodney yawns and gives a languid stretch, blinking up at him. "What the hell are you doing awake?"

"Nothing, go back to sleep."

He raises himself on an elbow, checks the clock and flops back against the pillow with a groan. "Don't tell me you're going for a run at this godforsaken hour. I swear that overtall Wookie's got you on a ridiculous fitness kick these days."

"Not Ronon. Had a feeling I needed to be awake, that's all."

"You and your gut feelings. Ever since that AI's taken space in your head I feel like I'm in a threesome and I don't much like sharing you with anyone, even mentally."

John scowls as he ties his boots. "Rodney-"

An exasperated huff as he sits up. "Fine, whatever. Not that I can sleep now anyway- I just had an inspiration on how to improve our energy efficiency by fifty percent. Think the cafeteria has breakfast ready yet? I'm hungry."

"You're always hungry. Good thing we've got food coming in from our trading partners on a regular basis, or we'd be at half rations based on your voracious appetite alone," reaching over to playfully pat his stomach.

"Oh, very droll. I'll have you know being a genius and saving the city on a regular basis burns a lot of calories."

"So do more amorous activities," John counters with a leer.

"Mmm, yes. So they do." Blue eyes regard him with affection. "Come here. A kiss and a good breakfast are just what I need to start the day off right. Well, that and a few cups of greenhouse-grown _klah_."

"Yes, sir." Five years ago they met by accident in an Alpha Base lab. Now they're openly a couple, the Military Commander and the Chief Scientist of Atlantis Colony. Whatever the reason- by predetermined destiny or pure chance- John's almost absurdly glad. He has his heart's love, Jumpers to fly, a city he can command with a thought, action and adventure on a regular basis.

He's never felt more blessed. At last he has something to live for, even after the literal end of the world.

Their lips meet just as the radio chirps. "Gateroom to Colonel Sheppard and Dr. McKay."

With a sigh and an apologetic shrug John grabs the receiver. "Sheppard here."

"Sorry for the late hour, sir. We have an unscheduled offworld activation. Dr. Weir has already been alerted."

"Copy that. On our way."

"Figures," Rodney grumbles. "The first real sleep we've had in weeks and now this. Better be worth it."

"Yeah. C'mon, last one there's a rotten egg."

"Oh, you just had to go mention eggs, didn't you? Thanks a lot, I'm starving now."

John chuckles and pats him on the back as they head for the nearest transporter.

* * *

In the Gateroom a crew of scientists and military personnel assemble for their nocturnal visitor, in readiness as much as sheer curiosity. Not as many present as during the daytime, but with unscheduled activations they don't take any chances.

Elizabeth smiles indulgently as they join her on the upper level gallery by her office, overlooking the Gate. "Don't tell me you're turning into a night owl too," she gently teases John.

"What can I say? My partner's a bad influence." Rodney shoots him a glare. "So who's knocking on our door? I thought we've already had our scheduled team check-ins for the night."

"Surely not the Genii?" Teyla inquires after politely nodding to Elizabeth.

"Better not be," Ronon growls beside Rodney, resting his arms on the railing.

"Colonel, Dr. Weir," Chuck addresses them from the control console. "We have incoming IDC." He peers at the display, blinking in surprise. "Make that two. Not any of the AR teams, though."

"So where are they from? And whose are they?"

Chuck swallows. "New Earth. Drs. Grahme and Jackson."

A ripple of surprise runs through the room.

John frowns. While the SGC's identification codes are stored in their system on the off chance contact's ever reestablished, no one's honestly expecting to hear from them after two years of isolation.

"Impossible! Why the hell are they coming here after all this time?" Rodney demands. "Can we trust the signal?"

A shiver runs down John's spine. This is why 'Lantis had awakened him. "Yeah, I think so. Lower the shield."

"Are you sure?" Elizabeth asks quietly.

He nods. "She told me something big was coming down the pike. Haven't had any reason not to trust her yet."

"Always a first time for everything," Rodney mutters.

She ponders for a moment then gives a quick, decisive nod. "Do it."

Chuck types in a command. "Shield's down."

The wormhole engages as per usual. At first nothing happens then a petite woman in glasses emerges through the event horizon, shoulder-length auburn hair neatly framing her face. Incongruous in white infirmary garb, a bandage on the left side of her head and a tool kit in her hand.

"Hey, Becky," John calls out. "Nice to see ya. You okay?"

She makes no reply. Only stops in the middle of the room, eyes glazed over. As if sleepwalking or something.

"Could be possessed," Rodney mutters. "Maybe they had a pod people foothold situation at the SGC."

"Let's hope that's not the case," Elizabeth says.

Marines glance up at John, hesitantly raise their weapons. He decides to take a chance. "Stand down."

Jackson arrives through the Gate, carrying two go bags. He drops them on the floor in his surprise as he takes in the room, eyes wide. "Atlantis..." he breathes.

The event horizon winks out behind him.

"Dr. Jackson?" Elizabeth calls out. "It's good to see you but what's the meaning of this?"

He blinks up at her, expression torn between anxiety and wonder. "Um, I'm not sure either. She's been unconscious for about four days, and then just ten minutes ago woke up and rigged the DHD to bypass the dialing computer."

Rodney looks incredulous. "What? How is that possible?"

"I have no idea. She's in a fugue state now, and-"

Becky breaks into a run, dashing up the stairs past startled military and scientists alike and disappearing. The poor befuddled archaeologist can only stand there in the middle of the room, staring after her in dismay.

"John, you and Ronon go after her," Elizabeth orders. He may be Military Commander but as Colony Leader she's in charge. "I'll deal with Dr. Jackson."

"Good idea. We'll make sure she's okay."

* * *

For curiosity's sake they stay behind Becky instead of overtaking her as she leads them down corridors, in and out of transporters. Must have the blueprints downloaded into her head or something, John thinks. He would've lost his own bearings by now if it wasn't for 'Lantis.

"She's quick," Ronon notes.

"Yeah." They go for runs regularly but even so they're having trouble keeping pace with her.

Finally they arrive in an atrium resembling the one in the control tower of Huy-Braesealis. As far as he knows no one's ventured in this part of the city yet. There's still so much unexplored, even after two years of occupation and countless challenges for their right to stay by Wraith, weather, Genii and weird Ancient tech alike.

Ronon disappears without a word, probably to head her off. And sure enough he's waiting when they arrive at a junction, positioning himself so she can't pass by no matter what. "Going somewhere, little lady?"

Becky stops short, wide-eyed, chest heaving. He takes advantage to make a grab for her. She twists herself free and rams a knee straight into his groin. His eyes bulge and he doubles over with a muffled yelp as she ducks into a transporter alcove and disappears.

John winces in sympathy and offers a hand to help him up. "You okay?"

Ronon waves him away. "Will be. Go get her."

With a final apologetic glance for his teammate he steps into the alcove. _'Lantis? _

_~She is in the principem pyrína computatrum, Dominus.~_ A panel lights up. Automatically he touches it and experiences the usual odd almost-movement before emerging seconds later into a vast octagonal room. For some reason the Ancient architects never went in for right angles anywhere in their buildings, preferring curves or more oblique shapes.

Along the walls inscriptions and diagrams are interspersed among consoles and monitors, some lighting up the further he gets into the room while others remain conspicuously dark. A floor-to-ceiling octagonal crystal pillar occupies the center on a dais much like in the control chair room.

John swallows, grateful for Alex Lorne's classes in Ancient. Which he figured he ought to learn, being _Dominus _and all.

_Principem pyrína computatrum._ Main computer core, the heart of the city's AI.

Rodney and Radek are gonna have a field day in here. No doubt about it.

He finds himself walking softer with every footstep, the inherent sense of awe reminding him of church as a kid. Not that he'd made a particularly good choirboy by any means, but the feeling takes him back- the incense making his eyes water, the cheap satin choir robes, Father Flaherty's droning voice during Mass making him fall asleep.

Becky's on her knees before one of the darkened consoles with its cover off, messing with its insides like an expert. Never a technical whiz as far as he can remember though it could be a skill she's had to pick up in the past couple years.

He can relate. Everyone in the colony has had to become jacks-of-all-trades out of sheer necessity since they got here, expanding their skill sets to include anything deemed necessary for survival. John himself now knows how to read some Ancient, curse in five languages, skin and butcher a tri-horned goat and barter for goods at the market worlds. Not to mention prepare samples for microscope slides, do basic Jumper repairs, plant and harvest tuttleroots, weave a blanket on an Athosian loom and cook a mean lasagna.

He hunkers down beside her. "Hey, little sis. Anything I can do to help?"

She doesn't reply, just goes on with her tinkering. John finds her silence and intense concentration rather unnerving. He's more used to Rodney's constant ranting and raving when immersed in a project, soothing in a weird way.

She replaces the cover and stashes the tools back in the kit. Then stands and approaches the central column, left hand upraised, palm facing out. Doesn't even look at him once.

He has a gut feeling something big's about to happen. "Um, I don't think you should be messing around with that-"

Too late. Her hand makes contact with the crystal surface. Lights swirl within the column.

The console she'd just worked on lights up, along with others previously inactive. In fact the whole room seems brighter than before, somehow.

_~Dominus? I feel much better now.~ _

_...You mean you weren't before? _

_~I was...crippled, after a fashion. I sustained a certain amount of entropic damage from millennia of inactivity when you woke me from hibernation. I fully intended to effect some repairs to make your lives easier but that function had been rendered offline and it could not be restored. Which is no longer the case, thanks to my brother.~ _

_...Your brother? What the hell are you talking about? _

A faint moan from Becky as she slowly collapses. He catches her in time before she hits the floor, checks for a pulse.

Faint but at least there. He breathes easier.

His radio chirps. "Weir to Sheppard."

"Sheppard here."

"Have you found Becky yet? Something's happening to the city."

"Yeah. I think she just made a few small repairs for us."

"Elaborate, please?" He can just imagine her puzzled expression.

"I'll explain later. Let Carson know I'm bringing her to the infirmary."

"Will do. Weir out."

He carefully stands up with Becky limp in his arms. "C'mon, little sis. Let's get you checked out. Gotta admit this wasn't ever the way I expected to see you again, but I'm glad you're here."

For a few moments he can only gaze around the newly-enlivened computer room in wonder, aware that on some new level the city's been saved once again.

Man, but Rodney's gonna be royally ticked he wasn't the one to do it this time.

* * *

She drifts in darkness until a familiar presence of pale gold, amber and russet surrounds her, chasing it away.

_~Domina?~ _

_Huy-Braesealis? What's going on? _

_~My sincerest apologies for what I have done to you, but the need was urgent. Once the porta oratio had been implemented I was able to regain contact with my sister after millennia of silence. She had sustained significant entropic damage and her self-repair function was offline. The fugue state I induced in you was regrettably necessary to bring her the modified instruction code. Sister, I apologize for the delay but I hope the assistance I provided is adequate.~ _

A silvery, blue-green presence winds its way into her mind, more feminine in feeling. _~More than adequate, brother. I am now in full functioning order. You have my gratitude.~ _

_...Um, you're his sister? _

_~Indeed I am, Domina. My name is Atlantis. A pleasure to meet you. I hope you enjoy your stay in my city. Awaken now, and see what you have wrought.~ _

The presences fade, replaced by an acrid antiseptic smell and a steady electronic beep. A light shines in her eyes. She bats it away, grumbling.

"Easy now, lass. Relax. You're in the infirmary." A soft Scottish burr, one she hasn't heard in years.

She opens her eyes slowly, blinking in bright light to find a familiar kindly face hovering above her, a stethoscope in his hands. "Carson? What are you doing here?"

He smiles. "I could ask ye the same. Just need to check your vitals first." After some poking and prodding he pronounces her satisfactory and hands over her glasses. "All yours, Dr. Jackson."

Daniel's smile is warm and gentle as he comes into view. He tenderly kisses her cheek, so much relief and love in his eyes it makes her heart skip a beat. "Hey."

"Hey yourself. What's going on?"

"You've been unconscious for a while. I'm so glad you're awake now. I've been really worried about you."

"But why? How?" She struggles to sit and an arm slips around her shoulders in support, not one of Daniel's.

"Here, let me help you with that."

She gapes up at familiar hazel eyes and hawkish features, dark unruly hair. "John?"

He grins. "Hey, little sis. Long time no see."

"You!" The privacy curtain is shoved aside by none other than Rodney McKay in high dudgeon, shaking his finger in her direction. "What the hell have you done, Grahme?"

"I don't know! What did I do?"

"Greatly improved our capabilities, is what. _Mnohokrát děkuji, drahý příteli._" Radek adjusts his glasses and beams at her.

McKay grabs at his tablet, prodding it, eyes widening at the readings. "Oh. Wow. What did you... I mean, I would've come up with a solution eventually but how did you know..." He lapses into stunned silence.

John smirks at his discomfiture. "Speechless for once, Rodney? That's a first. Sure you don't remember what happened, Beck?" She shakes her head, thoroughly confused.

If this is a dream it's a really weird one. Guess she shouldn't have scarfed down Jack's homemade beer-battered avian wings the night before.

"Perhaps there is a machine of the Ancestors which can aid in recovering her memory," a petite woman with bronze skin and russet hair suggests from the doorway. A tall man nearby sporting dreadlocks folds his arms over his chest and regards Becky with a stern expression, making her uneasy.

Rodney scowls, waves a dismissive hand. "Yes, yes, so she doesn't remember what she did but otherwise she's fine and we're better off now than we were last night. I still want to know how."

"For god's sake, McKay," Daniel snaps, standing up to face the physicist head on. "Can't it wait?"

"Of course not! She single-handedly ruined several carefully-planned experiments I'm working on. I demand an explanation!"

"Oh, like your work is so much more important than anyone else's-"

"Of course it is! If you knew how many times I've saved the city already-"

"Gentlemen, please," Elizabeth steps forward, hands raised in placation. "If you'll both calm down we can get to the bottom of this-"

Becky groans and claps her hands over her ears as everyone starts talking at once, making an awful cacophony.

Maybe it's not a dream after all.

Her head starts to spin. She reaches for the tray table to steady herself, knocking an empty bedpan right onto the floor.

Everyone stops mid-sentence at the clatter. Turning as one to gape at her as if they'd forgotten she was even there.

"Would someone please tell me what's going on?" she asks into a silence so sudden it makes her ears ring.

Daniel sighs, rubbing the back of his neck. "Um, well, it started about five days ago. We were visiting Huy-Braesealis with Jonas Quinn and SG-11..."

* * *

"No sign of brain damage, according to my scans," Carson tells Becky the next day. "You're a lucky lass to be sure, but I want to keep you in the infirmary for a while under observation. Just to make sure everything's all right."

"You mean in case I run through the city or mess with Ancient tech in my sleep again?" she asks with a wry smile.

He chuckles. "Something like that, aye."

"Good, 'cause I'd get pretty worn out trying to catch up with you." John adds more folders to the already intimidating stack on the tray table.

Becky eyes them with trepidation and groans. "God, more of them?"

"Wasn't my idea. Elizabeth thought you could use the briefing, as _de facto _representatives of New Earth while you're here. Should keep you from getting too bored, anyway."

Daniel flips through his own pile. "Not exactly light reading. This is everything that's happened since you got here, right?"

John shrugs. "Pretty much. The highlights, at the very least."

Becky rolls her eyes. "Sheesh. It's not like we're auditing you guys or anything. Though it does remind me of when Jack basically dumped SG-1's mission reports on me and Mac after we got to Cheyenne Mountain. Thought it was really weird stuff at the time, though by now I know it's just part of the job." She pauses. "Hey, didn't I read somewhere about you almost turning into an alien bug?"

"Sure did. See my antennae?" wiggling his index fingers above his head, making her laugh.

"God I've missed you, big brother. And speaking of weird," addressing a smirking Daniel, "I still haven't been able to determine exactly how many times you've died, either."

"I'll never tell," he counters, eyes twinkling in amusement. He's been enjoying himself immensely so far, what with John granting him unlimited access to the city's database and reading two years' worth of reports on ruins and Pegasus cultures by Alex and Xiaoli. Every night he shares his latest discoveries with her, describing them with so much breathless enthusiasm she has to kiss him as a reminder to pace himself.

Which leads to other pleasant nocturnal activities, even as they have to be mindful not to slip off the narrow hospital bed in their excitement. Last night they got so loud a blushing Carson had to caution them earlier against disturbing the other patients' rest. The memory of their ardor makes her own cheeks flush.

Hopefully she'll be released soon so they can have some decent privacy.

* * *

The mission reports are pretty heady stuff, as it turns out. Plenty of wonders in this galaxy but an equal number of dangers to rival those back home.

It amuses Becky to no end that John's recon team (himself, McKay, and Pegasus natives Teyla Emmagan and Ronon Dex) has mirrored SG-1's record of having the most unusual encounters and adventures.

Becky and Daniel have learned much about the expedition's first two years. It hasn't been easy establishing a colony.

On average almost a quarter of the expedition has run foul of the Pegasus Galaxy's inherent dangers, the most notable being Marshall Sumner and poor Aiden Ford (though technically MIA under unusual circumstances). While there's nothing physically set up to disturb the pristine walls a virtual memorial page on the city's Intranet honors the fallen.

There have been some pretty lean times as well, months of rationing before trading partnerships for local goods were established. The initial need for secrecy's made integration into the general galactic scene more gradual than expected, which makes a certain amount of sense given their current adversaries.

One of the most surprising things they learn is that the people of Pegasus aren't wary about traveling through the Gates (called here Rings of the Ancestors) like their Milky Way counterparts. They use them as casually and as easily- even almost defiantly in spite of the understandable fear of Wraith attacks- as anyone traveling back on Old Earth, for trade or visiting friends.

There's a long way to go before everyone can live in peace. But they're all doing their best, and with enough hard work and determination perhaps both galaxies will someday experience a new renaissance.

It's nice to think so, anyway.

* * *

When she's finally discharged with Carson's blessing Elizabeth leads her and Daniel on a personal tour of the city, offering information and useful advice along the way.

"Our cafeteria and commons are over there," pointing out a conservatory-like building some twenty stories below them by the east pier. "And the Gateroom, Jumper bay and main infirmary are in the central tower." Her hand sweeps to the north. "Military HQ's in that direction. Science labs and private residences are scattered throughout the city once they've been deemed safe to occupy. In between there are sections that remain uninhabitable, even potentially dangerous because of what they're likely to contain."

Becky whistles. "A long way to get anywhere. This is immense."

"Easy to forget our daily lives actually take place far apart from one another," Elizabeth acknowledges with a wry smile. "It just seems like a single vast complex because of the instantaneous nature of the transporters. To be honest we've barely made any inroads beyond those locations, though some fascinating discoveries have already been made."

"The discontinued projects left behind when the Ancients abandoned this galaxy," Daniel muses.

"Exactly. Some have proved to be beneficial, or at least relatively harmless. But others, well..." Her gaze turns inward. "In a stasis chamber we once found an elderly version of myself from a parallel timeline, where the shield had failed almost as soon as we arrived and most of the expedition drowned."

"Sent back into the past when the Ancients still occupied Atlantis to ensure that your version would succeed, right?"

She nods. "Sometimes I close my eyes and try to imagine what the other me saw then, at the height of their civilization. This was the last bastion of their hundred-year war with the Wraith but at the same time a thriving city-state, a center of research, commerce and culture for the entire galaxy."

The mention of those life-sucking aliens sends a shiver down Becky's spine. "Any idea where they came from?"

"Carson has a theory they're the result of genetic tinkering and crossbreeding, an experiment which escaped to terrorize the people of this galaxy well after their creators departed. Certainly we never expected to wake all of them from hibernation at the same time, but as we're the ones who set this in motion it's therefore our duty and responsibility to see them rendered harmless to human life, if not eradicated outright."

"Sounds like you've got your work cut out for you. Based on what we've read in the mission reports so far you might just succeed."

"Nothing is certain," Elizabeth says in gentle admonishment, "but we can always strive for better. We fully intend to remain here in Pegasus and ensure our mission is accomplished. More than our own survival is at stake."

* * *

Atlantis is beautiful, floating on the sparkling ocean of an uninhabited world, glass and metal towers soaring high into an azure sky.

As the City of Water there's no surprise it's more elegant and refined in appearance than its brother Huy-Braesealis. Yet in essence it serves much the same purpose- a refuge in a hostile and unpredictable galaxy, a source of hope and inspiration for an oppressed people.

Their assigned quarters turn out to be the equivalent of a luxury hotel suite complete with balcony. Doors, windows, lights and water temperature adjust themselves with her merest thought. Handwoven blankets on the massive bed in a soft gray add an incongruously rustic touch to a style that John rather cheekily calls Intergalactic Ancient Modern.

"I love this bed," Becky declares, wrapping one around her. "It's so comfortable. You know, for a people preoccupied with seeking Ascension and abandoning the material plane they had pretty easygoing lives. Think anyone would notice if we smuggled this back home through the Gate?"

Daniel chuckles. "We'll have to bribe Chuck to look the other way. Though once we get it home I have a feeling we'll never want to leave."

"And that would be a problem?"

"Not to me, though Jack might eventually take issue."

"Nah, he'd probably just want to get one for himself. Good for his back and bad knees."

He laughs, playfully tugging on the free end of the blanket, unrolling her back in his direction. Kissing her soundly and wrapping it around them both.

"You're in an awfully good mood," she notes with amusement.

"Guess that's what happens when dreams come true." Long fingers slowly trail down her back and she quivers. "And you get to share them with me after all. Remind me to thank Huy-Braesealis when we get back."

She quirks an eyebrow. "And not me?"

"Oh believe me, I'm grateful," he breathes against her neck. "Let me show you how much." Her soft chortles soon turn to ardent sighs as they resume the serious business of worshiping each other's bodies.

Though he's been content to stay on New Earth being able to explore the second city of the Ancients has made Daniel positively giddy, which she hasn't seen in a long time. It's fun being the recipient of his gratitude.

Later she sits up in bed wide awake while her beloved sleeps, content and fully sated, his head pillowed on her lap. Running her fingers through soft brown hair she closes her eyes, hearing the wind whistle around the towers, the gentle subliminal lullaby of the city's AI echoing in her mind.

_~Welcome. Be at peace. You belong here.~ _

Six years ago she had an ordinary life, working as a linguist at the Phoenix Foundation. Never once imagining she'd be in a city ten thousand years old, stars and moonlight belonging to a galaxy not her own shining through the windows.

Nothing like her daydreams, the idle wondering if there's another destiny in store for her somewhere else.

Far better than them, actually. Well above and beyond what she ever believed possible.

* * *

As outsiders it's fascinating to observe the vibrant, tight-knit community the expedition has become, the social distinctions between military and civilians more and more blurred over time even as their professional lives remain separate (save of course for the mixed Gate teams) and they stay focused on their respective duties.

"Mealtimes used to be fairly segregated affairs, particularly during the first year," Xiaoli acknowledges the next day in the cafeteria. A leisurely relaxing dinner with him, Alex and Evan while others at nearby tables hang around eavesdropping, hoping to hear all the latest New Earth gossip. "Military and scientists tended to keep to themselves back then. Then Colonel Sheppard, Dr. Weir and Dr. Heightmeyer- realizing more had to be done to ensure our colony also thrives, as opposed to merely surviving- began to encourage more cross-division relationships. It doesn't hurt that Alex and Evan have already proved by the success of their marriage it can be done. Their daughter's evidence of that," beaming at month-old Nora cuddling close to her mother's heart.

"Attitudes are certainly more open and relaxed now than they were at the start," Alex agrees, "influenced as much by Sheppard's decidedly casual approach to militarism as to the fact we've simply gotten used to one another. But we all consider Atlantis our home."

"No one desperate to return to New Earth, I take it?" Becky inquires.

"Correct. Thanks to the selection process everyone wants to make this permanent. One could say it's because we're already used to being exiles as it is."

Daniel nods, a little wistfully. "All of us are, when you think about it. The atmosphere here reminds me of the SGC, in a way. Or even a university campus, complete with ROTC program."

She laughs, handing Nora to Evan who gently dandles her on his knee. "You're not far off the mark. When the city's not in danger off-duty courses are available on a wide array of subjects. My lessons in Ancient for example, and there's a copy of your glossary on the city Intranet that everyone can access."

"Plenty of extracurricular activities on hand," Xiaoli concurs, "carefully designed to blow off steam and save our collective sanity. Ridiculous contests, video nights, sports and games, arts and hobbies, music and dancing."

"My division offers training in firearms and the martial arts of two galaxies for anyone who wants to learn," Evan adds while Nora burbles happily. "Including Jaffa-style staff fighting and Teyla's twin bantos. Also yoga, Athosian-style meditation and good old _kel'no'reem_ as modified by Teal'c for us Tau'ri. All with a goal of keeping bodies and minds engaged."

"It does sound a lot like what we have on New Earth," Becky notes. "What's the cultural scene like in the rest of the galaxy?"

"If Teyla invites you to her quarters you ought to accept," Alex advises. "She's been an invaluable guide in that area, and the tea is excellent."

Becky nods. "We're seeing her tomorrow afternoon. Looking forward to it."

* * *

Teyla Emmagan is a strong leader of her people, a fearless warrior. Also warm and accessible and a gracious hostess. None of those states mutually exclusive.

"We know much about the Ancestors and their struggle with the Wraith," she remarks while pouring them tea. "The histories of my people are very complete, as they go back many generations. We once lived as you, but the Wraith have been the scourge of the galaxy with their culling for so long we had to drastically change our ways out of necessity."

"Towards either a simpler existence," Daniel muses, "or one more underground and secretive like the Genii."

"Exactly so. I do not blame John for awakening the Wraith by accident from hibernation. He did it to save his people taken by them, as well as my own." She offers a plate of delicate crispy wafers, their smell reminiscent of cloves and cinnamon. "I have heard from John and Elizabeth that your original homeworld was destroyed with you as sole Witness, Becky. You have my sincerest condolences."

"Thank you." She swallows back the lingering sorrow at the mention. "If you don't mind my asking, why are you here and not with your people on the mainland?"

"I believe I can serve them best by remaining on Atlantis and lending my knowledge and expertise. Some among them believe your arrival was foretold, to turn the tide once and for all against our common foe. Based on your people's fortitude and ingenuity demonstrated so far, I see no reason not to live in hope. May I serve you more tea?"

"Yes, please." They both hold out their cups. It really is excellent.

* * *

On the other hand Ronon Dex is far more intimidating, at least initially. He towers over her, cocking an eyebrow in appraisal. "You know, you're pretty short."

"And you're pretty tall," she notes with equal dryness.

John holds up a hand. "Easy, big guy. Just because she got the drop on you earlier there's no need to frighten her."

"No worries, Sheppard. Just saying if she needs help reaching something way over her head we're both sturdy enough to give her a hand," grinning at her with some condescension.

"I'm closer to the ground," she counters, looking up at him with a warning glint in her eyes. "Center of gravity is lower, and not so far to fall."

Daniel and Rodney both blink at the exchange, puzzled and a touch apprehensive. Teyla conceals a snicker behind her hand.

John bursts into laughter. "You tell him, Beck."

Ronon offers her a toothy grin and a meaty hand. "Not bad, Grahme. Quick wit to go with your feet, I like that."

Becky takes it. He's got a strong grip but hers isn't weak either. He grunts in approval.

He actually turns out to be pretty decent under the gruff, toughened exterior. An impressive fighter yet also something of a poet. He reminds her and Daniel of Teal'c, after a fashion. A fellow stoic warrior with hidden depths.

She wonders what would happen if they ever had the chance to meet. Probably get on like a house on fire, once they'd sized each other up in a sparring match. Jack would want to sell tickets.

God knows she'd pay actual Old Earth money to watch it, too.

* * *

"You guys are short on ZPMs? Didn't I give you three of 'em?"

Rodney waves a dismissive hand in Becky's direction. "Yes, yes, but we depleted one to keep us shielded from the storm of the decade and another in flying the city when we had to outrun a fleet of Hive ships-"

Daniel's eyes widen. "It flies? But didn't you find it at the bottom of the ocean?"

"Of course we did! Haven't you been paying attention? It's a city-ship after all so yes, it flies!"

John's grin is very Cheshire Cat-like. "Does it ever. We've got Ancient-style Puddlejumpers, too. Way better than the ones from Alpha Base, much more responsive. I'll treat you guys to a flying tour of the city sometime."

"Oh, you're always looking for an excuse to fly," Rodney snipes though the tone is more affectionate than irritated. "Thing is we're getting by on the remaining ZedPM and naquadah generators but we've had to restrict power use and as a consequence our capabilities have been severely hindered. We've been looking for replacement modules all over the galaxy using hints from the city's database, but unfortunately the ones we find tend to be half-depleted at best or even worse, totally drained and not worth the bother of retrieving."

"So I guess this means you don't have to go looking anymore, right?" Becky gestures at their latest discovery, thanks to a tip from 'Lantis.

McKay's eyes light up at the sight of the ZPM-making machine similar to the one in Huy-Braesealis, already growing crystals. His expression mirrors John's almost manic glee. "Oh, yeah. Isn't it hot? We can do anything now."

* * *

It turns out having a reliable source is welcome news to Xiaoli and others secretly worried about the ethics of committing what amounts to cultural theft and disruption for their own benefit. There's even talk of making amends to the cultures they've already offended in their search by returning the used ZPMs and offering trade goods in recompense, which is possible now that the city's self-repairing mode is in full swing.

More automated factories are brought online every day, making it easy to manufacture what they need using elements extracted from seawater by a fleet of specialized underwater drones and select raw materials obtained in exchange for the byproduct of the desalination plants. Salt is vital to low-tech food preservation, and pure Atlantis crystals have become a hot commodity in Pegasus markets.

Finally the colony has everything it needs, which comes as a relief after months of making do and doing without. Becky's become the darling of both Operations and Zelenka's engineers for that reason alone.

* * *

One lunchtime John and Becky are ambushed by Rodney's minions specializing in Ancient computer tech, eager to pick their brains about the AIs and their duties.

"For crying out loud!" she finally exclaims in exasperation. "We have no idea how it works. Our titles in Ancient mean Lady and Lord, which sound impressive but honestly don't mean much in practice. We just sit in the chair and think, the AIs do the rest. More like glorified system administrators than anything else."

"Janitors, even," he adds with a shrug.

Their answers disappoint the scientists, who press on for elaboration until McKay shoos them back to their labs with a well-aimed verbal barrage.

_~Domina and Dominus, you are more than mere maintenance workers to us,~ '_Lantis corrects them primly. _~Much more.~ _

_~You provide us with a connection to the rest of your race and the universe at large,~ _Huy-Braesealis concurs. _~We have been isolated far too long. Without you we could not fulfill our programming, nor the purpose for which we were designed.~ _

_...And that is? _

_~To protect and nourish our citizens, of course.~ _

Becky and John share a glance, silently agreeing not to mention that tidbit to Rodney or Daniel. They'd never believe it anyway.

* * *

Now that there's more than enough power for everything- including transgalactic wormholes- the first databurst to New Earth goes off without a hitch. A day later Jack sends back a communique encrypted by Sam, written in his usual laconic fashion:

_ Thanks for the postcard. Good to hear from you folks. Hope Becky and Danny are enjoying their paid vacation. Beck, at the end of three weeks you have my permission to zat his rear end and drag him back through the Gate by his feet if he refuses to leave. Otherwise all is well in the Milky Way, though Quinn's been running himself ragged keeping up with us. Suffice it to say he's looking forward to his own vacation when you two get back here. _

_ On a more serious note my sincerest condolences on the losses you have suffered. Sheppard and Lorne are respectively promoted to full Colonel and Lt. Colonel, effective immediately. Have a beer or two on me, guys, 'cause you deserve it. Life-sucking space vampires sounds as wacko as anything we got around here, which is something of an understatement. __  
_

_ By the way, Carter wants her tool kit back one of these days. Just saying. _

Becky chuckles. Good old Uncle Jack, he'll never change.

But during the next assigned contact she remembers to send the tool kit back through the Gate, along with a bundle of Pegasus fruit which taste amazingly like chocolate though with the color and skin texture of a peach and note to Sam as a thank-you present.

Manners are important, after all.

* * *

One day the _Domina _of Huy-Braesealis and the _Dominus _of Atlantis meet in a secluded room, far from curious eyes and prying minds.

As one they sit on a couch and close their eyes.

Hands touch, palm to palm. Minds join as fingers link together.

_Little sister. _

_Big brother. _

_~Welcome, brother.~ _

_~Greetings, sister.~ _

For now the humans are merely conduits for two cities to catch up on ten thousand years' worth of gossip. Nothing is spoken out loud for a long time.

The conversation is nonetheless enlightening.

* * *

The sun is warm, the sky cloudless as they sit at the end of the southwest pier afterwards. Perfect for a picnic lunch- sandwiches of roast beast and leafy greens on nine-grain bread, washed down with bottles of Pegasus-style mead and plum-sized blue fruits that taste like papaya.

("Where the hell have you two been?" McKay demands of them later. "All the sensors could say was that neither of you were in the city."

Becky only shrugs. "Oh, just out to lunch." The consternation on his face is hilarious.)

John wipes his mouth with a handkerchief, slips on his sunglasses and leans back on his elbows. "One great thing about living on a floating city-ship. You can't beat the ocean view."

Becky smiles faintly, trying hard not to look down at the waves churning far below her feet. Heights are not her thing. "You know we still haven't even explored our own coastlines yet. I've had to settle for visiting beaches on other planets."

"We've checked out some with potential for great surfing. I've yet to find the right material to make a decent board, though."

"You didn't bring one with you?"

He shrugs. "Not much surfing to be had on Alpha Base. Nearest coastline's pretty rugged, and I'd have to rappel down a tall cliff to hit the beach at low tide. And wear a wetsuit in the bargain."

She laughs, then sobers. "You love this, don't you?" gesturing around her. "The city, the galaxy, the whole wacko shebang, as Jack would say."

He considers. "Yeah. As freaky and dangerous as it gets I feel I belong here. Which is probably the freakiest thing of all, when it comes right down to it. See, I was the black sheep in my family-"

"Wait a minute. A decorated officer in the Air Force, and you were the black sheep? What, were your family criminals or something?"

"Something like." A rueful smile. "My dad was a captain of industry. Even before the Big Quake and Zero Hour we weren't close. I never felt like I belonged anywhere, not really. Alpha Base was the same until I met Rodney. But once we got here this place immediately became home, even before I sat in the control chair."

"I get it. I feel the same about New Earth, it reminds me of where I grew up, atypical photosynthesis notwithstanding. So I guess that means you won't want to come back with us?"

"Right. Not to stay, anyway. I wouldn't mind visiting from time to time," he amends. "But even if the Ancients ever return and throw us out I'll find someplace else to stay in Pegasus. I think most of us would, given the chance."

She considers his words, then nods acceptance. "I hear you. You'll get no argument from me, nor from anyone else. I can tell you guys are needed here, without question. But don't forget you're also our contingency plan. Otherwise there's nowhere else in the universe for us to go that'll be safe."

"For relative values of safe, anyway." Very dry. "I'll be sure to remind everyone at the next Lantean Council meeting."

They lapse into a companionable silence. The motion and sound of the waves lapping against the pier are very soothing. They didn't bring any binoculars to confirm, but some kind of giant sea mammal is leaping out of the water near the horizon.

"Big brother?" Becky finally ventures.

"Yeah, little sister?"

"You realize that no matter how weird things are now, our lives are probably gonna get even weirder, in some way we can't possibly predict?"

"Uh-huh." John grins. "Ain't it great?"

* * *

_Notes: References to SGA S01 E01 and 02, "Rising" and E15 "Before I Sleep" and S02 E07 "Instinct." _

_Many thanks once again to Sourlander's Loyalties series on AO3 for the loan of OC Alex Lorne- and baby Nora, too (safe and sound in this 'verse!)._


	24. Woven Together

Becky leans back from the Ancient terminal in the lab, noting with some surprise the hour on her watch. Since breakfast she and Daniel have been perusing official reports in the city's database for any information pertaining to Janus, the Ancient scientist who helped the alternate Elizabeth back in the past and also mentioned several times in the downloaded Atlantis file from Huy-Brasealis. Rodney and Daniel are both convinced he's got a secret lab or two full of unauthorized projects somewhere in the city, and while it's hard to find actual proof they're nothing if not persistent.

She takes off her glasses to rub at eyes sore with screen fatigue, realizing she's tired and- judging by the rumbling of her stomach- absolutely ravenous. "God, I need a break."

No reply from Daniel. Obviously a different tactic's required.

With quiet steps she approaches her beloved, bending to blow softly in his left ear. A corner of his mouth turns up but otherwise doesn't respond.

Thus encouraged she bestows tender nibbling kisses on the lobe then down his neck, lingering on a particularly sensitive spot. Before she can pull back to repeat the actions on the other side he captures her lips and just as quickly releases her, looking rather smug at her somewhat dazed expression. "Hey."

"Um, hey yourself. Ready for a break?"

"Uh-huh. Why don't we pick something up from the cafeteria and eat in our quarters? We can share those sweets you bought on that market planet for dessert. Among other things." The playful look in his eyes promising an impromptu afternoon's delight makes her quiver inside.

"Sounds like a plan to me," she murmurs against his lips.

The discreet sound of a throat clearing makes them pull away, a touch of a flush coloring them both.

John smirks at them from the doorway, the glint in his hazel eyes reminiscent of Jack when he's plotting mischief. "You've both been buried in that database for far too long. Time to come up for air already. All work and no play, ya know."

"Just earning our keep around here," Becky dryly counters. "You should try it sometime."

The smirk turns into an outright grin. "Nah. You know me, naturally lazy. Speaking of breaks, how about a field trip to the mainland this afternoon? Teyla would love to introduce you to her people, and we're staying over for dinner. Carson and Parrish are coming along too. It'll be fun."

Daniel opens his mouth to decline out of reflex but Becky shoots him a sharp look learned from Jack. "We'd love to. What time, and do we need to bring anything?"

"Just yourselves. Be in the Jumper bay at 1500 sharp or we'll leave without ya. Enjoy your lunch break." He winks at them and saunters away.

Daniel rubs the back of his neck, taking an uneasy look around the room. "You think we should? Still a lot of work to do."

"Don't worry, it'll be waiting for us when we get back. Besides, I'm looking forward to an afternoon off," she croons, sitting on his lap and wrapping her arms around his neck. "We should have just enough time to enjoy a couple hours of lunch together and a long, hot shower before we have to leave."

The mischief's back in his eyes as he pulls her close. "Sounds like a plan to me."

* * *

When they arrive in the Jumper bay on time everyone's already waiting for them by one of the Ancient-style shuttlecraft, sleeker and much more advanced than their New Earth counterparts. Which as an added bonus- John informs them with a grin- can also be flown entirely with the mind, immediately putting almost every thought to action (save for providing turkey sandwiches).

"Providing one has the ATA gene of course," Carson reminds them. "Perhaps you ought to have a lesson, Becky."

She blanches. "God, no. Absolutely not."

"But is not your uncle the General a pilot?" Teyla inquires, puzzled.

"Oh, I didn't inherit my problem with heights from him. My other uncle hates them as much as I do. So did my grandmother Ellen come to think of it, even though her first husband was a fighter pilot. Jack followed in his footsteps by joining the Air Force. So you could say both traits run in our family."

"Coming up on the mainland, folks," John declares. "Please make sure your chairs and tray tables are in the upright position for landing. Thank you for flying Air Atlantis."

* * *

The temperate forested terrain prevalent on over half of the Gate-accessible planets in the Milky Way reminds Becky of where she grew up in the Pacific Northwest. Which only lends proof to her theory that, in a bid to stave off homesickness, Ancient terraformers merely recreated the conditions of their original homeworld on many planets as possible.

Once on a mission she mentioned her observations to Jack, who just rolled his eyes and made some flippant comments about trees and the green state of the galaxy.

It's equally clear that even here in Pegasus the Ancients were disinclined to change the terraforming template. Enough research in the database has only convinced Becky that for all their vaunted scientific and technological achievements as a race they were awfully conservative, more arrogant and cowardly than altruistic and courageous. Lacking serious imagination, foresight, or even the desire to fix the problems they created for themselves, preferring to leave them for future races to deal with while they sought Ascension or whatever.

Just look at the mess they left in both galaxies, for crying out loud.

* * *

As part of their longstanding alliance Atlantis makes periodic visits to the Athosians' settlement on the mainland. Carson gives everyone checkups and offers cheerful advice on hygiene, Dave examines the latest crop of tuttleroots and tava beans ready for harvesting and John engages the kids in an improvised game of football. Meanwhile Teyla introduces Becky and Daniel to Halling and others around the camp, who treat them with the same courtesy and kindness as she does.

"For a people long under threat of extinction you're surprisingly open and willing to engage with strangers," Becky later remarks.

Teyla acknowledges this with a nod. "When I was younger I accompanied my father on trips to many worlds. He was very sociable with a wide variety of folk, and I asked him once how he could be so fearless. He replied that though there many different ways to live, no one is a stranger if you approach them with a good heart, as we are all brothers and sisters through the Rings of the Ancestors. Now come, there are two I especially wish you to meet."

They follow her into a dwelling with an upright loom taking up most of one side. Skeins of homespun fibers, wall hangings and piles of rugs and blankets are scattered everywhere, giving it a cozy feel.

Awaiting them are Taleweaver Deyna and her life's companion Kallan, both with long, snow-white hair and warm brown eyes almost lost in a mass of bronze wrinkles. Teyla's aunt and uncle, as it happens.

Surprisingly the only elderly people they've seen in the whole camp, the rest being either mature adults, youths or babies. "Due to the culling, of course," she confirms. "They are beloved and revered by us all the more because they have survived this long."

Solemnly they clasp forearms and touch foreheads in greeting. It's a beautiful gesture in a galaxy so fraught with peril, the simple acknowledgement of each other's continued existence. Many in the colony perform it among themselves, and Becky fully plans on introducing the custom once they get back to New Earth.

"Be welcome, travelers, Ring-siblings," Deyna says. "I have tales to weave, if you are willing to listen. And perhaps you might each share some of your own in return."

Becky and Daniel are both agreeable, their mutual curiosity about other cultures piqued by her words. When a culture can be reduced so quickly in both size and technological level by outside forces beyond their control, oral histories become vitally important. Wall hangings and rugs symbolizing important events and information are a practical solution for what has become a nomadic culture out of necessity.

They settle in amid piles of comfortable blankets while Deyna turns to a wall hanging just begun on the loom, taking up a shuttle. Her voice takes on a hypnotic quality as she works, sometimes talking, sometimes singing or chanting accompanied by Teyla and Kallan on wooden flute and drum. Weaving together histories of the Ancestors in general and the Athosians in particular as deftly as she incorporates different strand lengths and colors of yarn. When she's finished a third of the hanging is completed.

She turns and offers the shuttle to Daniel. "Ring-brother, would you like to add your stories?"

He smiles. "Yes, I would."

As he steps to the loom Becky admires a soft gray blanket of unique split design and drapes it around herself, wrapping her mind as well in the smooth baritone voice of her beloved. He speaks of the Ancients in the Milky Way and the Stargates, with particular focus on the one on Old Earth buried after driving away the Goa'uld then unearthed once more ten thousand years later. How Sam and other scientists discovered a way to operate it without the DHD, and how he himself had discovered the origin point and unlocked the Gate to Abdyos and all else that came after, for good or ill.

When he finishes the hanging's two-thirds done. Deyna then hands the shuttle over to Becky. "I perceive you have tales to weave as well, young Ring-sister. Please, join us."

She bites her lip. Since the Memorial she's never talked about what she'd Witnessed to anyone else. "Um, I'm not sure..."

Daniel gently touches her shoulder. "It's okay, Becky. I don't think you'll find a more sympathetic audience. They understand better than anyone what we've lost. Don't worry, I'm right here with you."

Buoyed by his reassurance she does, in a halting voice that grows ever stronger, describing the end of Old Earth and the flight through the Gate to the New. The first expedition to Huy-Braesealis the City of Earth, her introduction to its AI and subsequent induction as its _Domina_. The Star in the Eye and its use during the Battle of Gateway. The hope of freedom they're now bringing to worlds long oppressed.

Finally she steps back, surprised to find the wall hanging completely finished.

"Well spoken, travelers. Now these tales are in our memory, woven by mind and heart forever into the fabric of our lives." Deyna finishes both ends of the hanging, removes it from the loom and folds it in half. "Please, accept this as a gift between Ring-siblings. May our lives be as woven together from now on." She offers it to them with a bow, which they return in kind.

Becky fingers the sturdy hanging, rich with complex patterns in subtle colors and textures. Destined to become an heirloom she's sure, cherished by later generations for the materials, the craft and the obvious care taken in its production as much as the stories woven into them. A gift of the past and present, to the future.

It'll look very nice hanging in their quarters back home.

* * *

When they finally leave the dwelling it's almost sunset. Daniel, Teyla and Deyna are already moving towards the main square where the communal evening meal is being served.

Becky lingers behind, taking a deep breath of fresh air, smelling resinous trees along with smoke and roasting meat. Just like camping trips as a kid with her family, lingering around a campfire listening to marvelous stories.

A past so very far away now, in both space and time.

"You are troubled, Ring-sister?" Kallan inquires softly behind her.

"A little," she admits. "I miss my homeworld, even as I realize it's gone forever. There have been times I wish I had declined the offer to be Witness for my people. But to do so would've dishonored those who had perished on Old Earth as well as everyone now living on the New."

He nods. "I understand. Deyna and I have been witnesses several times over ourselves, to the destruction the Wraith brought to our world. That is why we agreed to become Taleweavers, honoring those lost and keeping the memory alive for those who come after. Heavy burdens we bear to be sure, but we try to do so with grace and forbearance. It is good you share yours with a life's companion," nodding over at Daniel as he chats with John and Teyla.

She smiles, a little wistfully. "We're not married yet. To be honest I don't know if I'm ready to make such a major commitment." It's funny, being able to confide in this stranger as if he were already a dear friend, yet at the same time it feels quite natural. Maybe this is what Teyla's father had been talking about.

He reaches into a pocket, hands her a set of beads strung on a fine leather cord. "When you are, give this to him as you pledge your lives to one another. Wearing it will remind him of you and help him take heart in times of danger, giving him the strength to persevere."

"Like the necklace he gave me," lifting the hummingbird necklace out from under her shirt and absently running a finger over the engraved design. She wears it all the time now.

He takes a moment to admire it, then nods agreement. "Exactly so. I do not recognize the image but surely it serves the same purpose for you."

"It does." She holds the bracelet up to the rapidly dwindling daylight. Hand-polished stone beads, agate and what looks like labradorite, gray-green with surprise glints of color here and there.

"That's very thoughtful," she finally says, tucking the bracelet in a pocket. "Thank you."

"You are most welcome. Do not fret, little Ring-sister. I have faith the Ancestors will reveal your destiny when the time is right. Until then, be brave."

His words stun her a little as they touch foreheads. Familiar minerals and familiar advice coming from a stranger in a galaxy three million light years from home. Amazing.

"Hey, Becky!" John calls to her from where Teyla and Halling are already filling wooden bowls with food for the rest of the camp. "C'mon over and grab some grub before you miss out." Holding on to his own bowl, Daniel looks up and waves to her with his free hand from a wooden bench, then pats the empty space next to him.

After the meal, more stories and songs shared around the fire, then a Jumper flight back to Atlantis under the stars.

All the while she fingers the beads in her pocket, considering Kallan's words and wondering if she'd ever have the courage to ask Daniel to be her life's companion, and what his answer would be.

Trying even harder not to think of the alternative if he rejected her.

* * *

Becky awakes with a cry hours later, shuddering through the last lingering remnants of the dream. Daniel stirs a little in his sleep and she bites her lip to keep quiet until he settles down again.

Would that she could as well, but her body has other needs at the moment. She eases her way out of bed and heads for the bathroom, grateful Ancient physiology's similar enough to require compatible toilets.

When she returns Daniel's awake and sitting with his back against the headboard, looking almost boyish in the moonlight without his glasses. "Nightmare?" he asks softly.

She sighs. "Yeah."

"Anything I can do to help?"

"Just hold me?"

"Sure."

She rests her cheek against his bare chest, taking comfort in his steady heartbeat, the feel of long fingers slowly stroking her hair, the gentle press of lips on top of her head.

"Want to talk about it?" he murmurs after a while.

She gives a halfhearted shrug. "Not much to say. Same content as always, loss and total destruction. At least I don't have them quite as often anymore."

"It bothers me you have them at all. There ought to be some way to make the memories less painful for you, at least."

"Yeah, that'd be nice. But according to Heightmeyer time's the only real cure." She catches his troubled expression. "Hey, don't worry so much. I'll be fine."

"I know you will, but I can't help it. You're woven into every fiber of my being, as Taleweaver Deyna might say." He says it lightly but there's no mistaking the undercurrent of love and concern in his voice.

"As you are in mine." Reaching up to caress the strong jawline, the sensual curve of his lips, the graceful neck and along the broad shoulders, feeling him relax at her touch. "_Ámame, mi cuervo. Por favor._"

He takes her hand and kisses it. "_Siempre, mi colibrí._"

The nightmares are soon banished completely by their urgent, overwhelming need for unity, in mind, body and soul.

Perfection.

* * *

Back in the lab the next day, Becky working by herself since Daniel's gone off on a mission to investigate an Ancient outpost with John's team. They're returning to New Earth at the end of the week so she's determined to dig up whatever she can about the elusive Janus before then.

Peace and quiet at last.

Good thing she doesn't mind doing the dirty work, letting McKay take whatever credit he can with the discoveries garnered from the results. And John's happy when he's happy, and by extension so is the rest of Atlantis.

Win-win as far as she's concerned.

An afternoon snack is called for first, however. She firmly agrees with Rodney that important scientific research cannot be made without adequate and regular meals. Though not to his face, of course.

She jots a few notes on the tablet beside her before standing and walking stiffly to the nearest transporter. Arching against the ache in her back and stretching her arms high above her head to work out the kinks, she idly wonders if Daniel would be agreeable to a massage once he returns from the mission, hopefully as a prelude to certain other relaxing activities.

As a working vacation it's been pretty fun. Loads of interesting work, great company, adventure and excitement in a gorgeous, exotic location. Which, she thinks with a wry smile, sounds exactly like an advertisement for a luxury resort:

_Visit the Fabled Lost City of Atlantis, located in the Fabulous Pegasus Galaxy! _

Nobody can tell her irony is dead. Not when there's so much weirdness going on in the universe to prove it's alive and well.

In the commons a group of women occupy one of the larger tables, Alex and others familiar from last week's girls-only poker evening. She nods at their cheerful invitation and collects a wrapped sandwich, bottle of water and a vibrant purple fruit that tastes like strawberry.

"Can't get any work done when Dr. Jackson's around, huh?" Laura Cadman quips with a knowing smirk. Before Departure the explosives expert had been a frequent attendee of similar games back on New Earth. Still has a hell of a poker face.

"Well, Daniel and I did learn the hard way how to balance work and play. And believe me, it was hard!" Becky's cheeky innuendo sends everyone snickering. "Seriously, I'm enjoying the quiet in the lab today, without hearing him and McKay snipe at each other all the time."

"Yeah, I'll just bet. Wanna join us tonight for another game? Miko's bringing rice balls and homemade sake for snacking."

Kusanagi smiles modestly. "One of our trading partners provides a river grain similar to best-quality uruchimai rice," she explains. "I am glad to do my part for the colony through my cooking skills. All of us have needed to cultivate other talents apart from our regular duties as well."

"Necessity being the mother of generalization in Pegasus," Laura dryly notes. "After all, 'specialization is for insects,' according to Dr. Weir."

Becky nods. "She's quoting Robert Heinlein. Makes sense."

"Told you guys she'd know where it came from. Born bookworm."

"As are many of us here," Alex chides. "Including yourself. Writers as well in our free time, mostly continuing or expanding upon existing stories from Old Earth media."

"You mean fan fiction? What a great idea!" Becky's delighted. "I remember reading them on the Internet and being amazed by the fact others actually wrote stories about my favorite shows. Please, send some to me with the weekly databursts. I'd love to read them."

"This is purely for fun," Miko admits, "so it won't be professional-quality work. We use pseudonyms, of course. Some also write what we call real person fiction, part of an ongoing series called _Gateway Hospital_."

"Sounds like a title for a soap opera."

Laura grins. "Kinda does, doesn't it? Even so don't tell anyone else, okay? We prefer to keep it between ourselves," tapping the side of her nose. "Plausible deniability, dont'cha know."

"I understand completely. You have my solemn word I won't tell a soul," crossing her heart with a conspiratorial wink. "You know, I might even be inspired to write myself one of these days."

Already she can imagine interesting stories about her and Daniel. Might help to spice things up in the bedroon a bit. In the name of research, of course.

"You're welcome to join us any time," Alex says encouragingly. "I'm certain you have plenty of material to write about young doctors in love- suitably disguised, naturally. I'm working on one about a relationship between a doctor and an artist drafted to be a soldier."

"Gives new meaning to write what you know, I'm sure," Becky dryly remarks, then winces at a sudden, sharp twinge on her left side. "Ow!"

"What's the matter?"

"I don't know. Feels like I've just been stabbed in the gut."

Her radio chirps. "Dr. Grahme? Nurse Velasquez in the infirmary. Dr. Jackson's been injured."

A sudden sinking feeling in the pit of her stomach, the bottom about to drop out of her world. "On my way."

* * *

Becky's seen Gate teams come back injured in a wide variety of ways. No surprise, given the dangerous nature of the universe.

But one glimpse of a pale and unconscious Daniel as they hustle his gurney through the open doors of the surgical suite and it's almost too much to take. God knows she's seen him at his worst before but this feels different. Much more immediate.

She wants to run, cry, faint, scream at the injustice of it all. Instead she can only stand there, breathing slowly through clenched teeth and trying to quell the churning of her stomach. Holding back sobs until her throat hurts.

A gentle hand settles on her shoulder and she jumps.

"Whoa now, take it easy." John quickly backs away, holding up his hands in placation. "It's just me."

She looks him over, taking in the bruises on his face and arms, the black t-shirt torn and smeared with dirt. Frowning at the streaks of drying blood. "You okay?"

"A little worse for wear, maybe, but I'll be fine. The blood's not mine, by the way."

Her attention strays to the surgery doors, now closed. "So what happened to you guys?"

"Genii ambush on our way back from the outpost. They gave us more resistance than expected. He got stabbed on his left side. Put up one hell of a fight before then, though."

"He's well-trained. Not his first time being stabbed either, from what I've heard." The room starts to spin, sending her swaying a bit. "Ohh-"

"Hey, you've gone white. Let's get you sitting before you keel over, huh?" He gently grasps her elbow, steering her over to a group of chairs in one obtusely-shaped corner. Talking a nurse into getting her a cup of water.

Gratefully she accepts it and leans forward. Taking small sips and a few deep breaths. Doesn't know how she's gonna pull herself together. "Think he'll be okay?"

"Sure he will. Don't worry, Carson's the best."

As they wait they watch medical staff mill about, tending to other injured marines and scientists then releasing them. The surgery doors remain shut.

Rodney comes by, left hand in a cast and holding onto his ever-present tablet while pecking at it with the other hand. John raises an inquisitive eyebrow at the injury before patting the seat on his other side. "Just a sprain according to Velasquez," he sniffs. "Too numb right now to argue but I'm certain it's broken in at least three more places than she thinks. Later I'm demanding an ultrasound to confirm. Any news on Jackson?"

"Nope."

"Mmm." His eyes flick to Becky. "Hey, he'll be okay. They may practice voodoo here but they're really good at it."

She can only nod in reply, too unsettled to speak. It's all she can do to remind herself to stay positive as it is. The thought of losing her beloved here, so far from home in a strange galaxy...

John squeezes her hand in brotherly reassurance. "Hang in there, little sis. You can do this."

Right. Easier said than done.

Becky gives herself a mental shake. Not the first time this has happened to someone she cares about, and it damned well won't be the last. Time to get a grip.

Teyla wanders over, bending to touch foreheads with all three before folding her legs and settling gracefully onto the hard floor. Ronon follows soon after, nodding in a curt but friendly manner as he leans against the wall, arms folded.

Others eventually join them in the tiny waiting area- Alex and Evan with a sleeping Nora against his shoulder, Radek and Xiaoli, even Elizabeth. Each offering her light shoulder pats and soft words of reassurance and support. Miko and Laura pass out rice balls and bottles of water.

Becky can't help but take heart from their company, the unspoken camaraderie of people who have been through hell and back for each other and lived to tell the tale. Similar to the SGC in that regard, more family than mere colleagues.

It's a comforting feeling, being part of something bigger. Reassuring to know they're not alone in the universe.

* * *

Eventually she loses track of how much actual time has passed, but it feels like forever all the same.

She's dozing fitfully against John's shoulder when Carson approaches the impromptu group still in surgical scrubs, giving them a weary smile as he takes off his mask. "Dr. Jackson will be fine. The knife just glanced off a rib, no major organs or arteries damaged. Did lose a bit of blood, though. He's gotten stitches and a transfusion."

"So he'll be okay?" she asks hopefully.

"Right as rain in no time with bed rest. Should be fine to leave by the end of the week."

A collective sigh echoes around the group, echoing her own relief.

"That's great news, Carson. Thanks," kissing him on the cheek.

"My pleasure, lass. He'll be unconscious until tomorrow, but we'll keep an eye on him."

"Can I at least see him right now?"

"Aye. He's over there." He gestures to the opposite corner of the room, the same bed she occupied just three weeks prior.

Becky bites her lip, steeling herself before shoving aside the curtain. John's right, she tells herself. You can do this.

Her heart nearly breaks all the same.

Daniel's propped up against pillows, eyes closed with his glasses resting on the bedside table. The breathing tube in his nose and IVs attached to his arms, the slow rise and fall of his chest and the steady beeping of the monitor the only signs of life. A blanket covers his body but the outline of a large bandage is visible on the left side of his chest- coincidentally the same approximate location as her own scar received during the landslide years ago, which twinges in sympathy.

She's filled with a desperate longing to crawl into bed and kiss him better everywhere she can reach. Instead she settles for only his cheek, telling Nurse Velasquez she'll return first thing in the morning.

No appetite for a late supper but at least the shower's nice and hot.

The bed, however, is very cold that night. And very, very lonely. It takes a mental lullaby from a solicitous 'Lantis before she can get any sleep.

_~Be at peace, Domina. Your beloved is safe. All will be well in the morning, I promise you.~ _

She fervently hopes so.

* * *

Becky hates feeling so darn useless. The anxiety, the endless circling around what-ifs painfully familiar, even reminiscent of visiting Mac in the hospital after an assignment and seeing any of SG-1 in the infirmary after a mission.

She sighs and settles in the nearby chair, opening her book. Good thing she'd had the foresight to pack one when Jack had suggested preparing a go bag for emergencies. Yet after reading the same paragraph five times she realizes she's too distracted to concentrate and sets it aside in favor of just holding his hand.

Medical personnel swirl around tending to him and other patients but they're easily ignored. For a long time all she sees is her beloved.

Close to lunchtime Daniel finally opens his eyes, staring blankly around the room before focusing on her. "Atlantis, right?"

She smiles in relief. "Yeah. You okay?"

An ironic twist to his lips. "I didn't die again. So there's that."

"Honestly," she groans, "how can you make jokes at a time like this? That's Jack's department."

"Sorry."

"Carson says it'll take a while to heal properly but you should be able to go back through the Gate by the end of the week. Janet will have to supervise the rest of your recovery after that. And so will I. The well-being of my boss is important to me, you know." She cups one side of his face, thumb brushing against his cheek. "Very important," she adds softly.

Though she's seen him badly injured in the past it's never worried her quite this much. Maybe it's the fact they're over three million light-years from home that's made it more nerve-wracking. Or because she could've lost him for good. Or simply that she's never fallen so deeply in love before now, to the point of seeing him as essential to her as air, as water, as life itself.

Most likely all of the above.

A tear trickles down her cheek. He reaches up and brushes it away with infinite tenderness. "Hey, don't cry. I'll be fine."

She holds onto that hand, entwining their fingers. "I know. It's just that when you went into the surgery you looked awful. I was so afraid you'd die for good, and-" She swallows the lump in her throat, wipes away more tears with the back of her other hand. "I love you more than anything, raven. It would kill me to lose you."

"Oh, hummingbird. I feel the same about you." His own eyes are moist with emotion.

It comes to her in a single moment of purest clarity. As if Kallan was right, about the Ancestors revealing her destiny.

Raven and Hummingbird. Save for the ones they share in multiple languages they've never used any other endearments in English, preferring to use those two simple words for expressing the profound depth of their feelings for one another.

Ever since meeting for a second time under Cheyenne Mountain they've been bound to one another physically, mentally and emotionally in a hundred different ways, through similar losses, shared experiences, wacky offworld ceremonies and telepathic Ancient tech. She'd felt it when he'd been stabbed, for god's sake. As if needing any more proof they were soulmates.

There's no one more compatible for her than Daniel. No one she trusts more. She simply cannot live without him.

The next stage of their life together is just within reach if she but asks the question. What they've surely been heading towards the whole time since that first Memorial Day, possibly as far back as Seattle. A long and convoluted path full of heartbreak and tragedy, but also moments of joy and contentment.

And above all an enduring love, one she'd never dreamed she could have six years ago.

_Take a chance, kiddo. Be brave._ Following that advice has gotten her further than she'd ever expected.

She's ready. Is he?

Only one way to find out.

Heart pounding in her ears she gets down on one knee, still holding onto his hand.

His brow furrows. "Um, Becky? What are you doing?"

She takes a deep breath. "Daniel, ever since we met in Seattle we've had a special connection, one that's lasted even as we were separated by both time and space. I can't imagine the rest of my life without you, and there's nothing I'd like better than for us to build a future together. So I ask you from the bottom of my heart, will you please marry me?"

* * *

John's not believing what he's hearing. Then again maybe he should, given the trajectory of their relationship.

What incredible luck, to wind up here at this precise moment. He'd been heading for the cafeteria with Teyla and Ronon to meet up with Rodney, but they'd decided to pay a little visit to the infirmary first. Apparently Alex and Evan Lorne had the same idea, with Wang Xiaoli naturally tagging along. Elizabeth had popped in on a break from administrative work, and Rodney stumbled in just a second ago, grumbling about ungrateful partners and teammates not showing up for lunch dates when they're supposed to.

So there are an awful lot of witnesses around to hear that fateful question coming from his little sister-in-spirit. Now everyone's waiting with baited breath for Jackson's answer.

Alex, Evan and Xiaoli beam with pride while Teyla and Elizabeth share a delighted look.

Ronon and Carson both nod in satisfaction and Rodney just gapes at the couple, rendered speechless for the second time in two weeks.

Medical staff, marines and scientists unabashedly stare in open curiosity. This is gonna be the talk of the colony for weeks on end, if not the entire New Earth SGC.

John can't seem to stop grinning, as if he had something to do with it himself. (Well, other than allowing Jackson on the mission, but him getting stabbed was the Genii's fault, not his.)

_Say yes_, he mouths to Jackson.

This is gonna be good.

* * *

Daniel just stares at her, wide-eyed. Mouth opening and closing but nothing coming out.

The silence stretches on. She fears the worst.

Finally he swallows. "Um, yes?"

She blinks. "You mean...?"

He's grinning openly now, warm and genuine and with so much love it nearly takes her breath away. "Yeah Becky, I do. I'll marry you."

"Oh, Daniel-" Further words fail her. Instead she leans in for a warm, lingering kiss, mindful of his injury.

The sound of applause makes her pull back, staring at the enthusiastically cheering crowd in stupefaction. When the hell did everyone show up?

John's the first to step up and congratulate them, grinning. "Fantastic news, guys. Wanna have the ceremony here?"

"I'd be more than happy to officiate," Elizabeth agrees. "I'm sure General O'Neill would consider it as valid as any marriage on New Earth."

"Unlike other ceremonies we've participated in offworld," Daniel notes dryly. "There was that one we had on PX7-248, remember?"

Becky smacks her forehead. "God, I forgot about that one. So I guess that means we're already been married for several years now, huh?"

"Uh-huh. Maybe we should be renewing our vows instead."

She stares at him for a second before breaking out in helpless laughter. Elizabeth and John both stare as if she's gone nuts. "He's joking, really," she feels compelled to explain once she calms down. "Just an offworld ceremony we had to participate in back in the day. Seriously, while the idea of a wedding here is very tempting, we'd better have it on New Earth. Both of my uncles would be livid they don't get to escort me down the aisle and I'd really prefer my fiancé here didn't die before the wedding," giving Daniel a sly look and getting an affectionate smirk in return.

John chuckles. "Fair enough. Hey, maybe you guys can come here for the honeymoon instead."

Rodney scoffs, rolling his eyes. "For god's sake, this is hardly a luxury resort. Whatever possessed you to make such a ridiculous offer?"

Daniel cocks his head in sudden interest, a speculative look in his eyes. "You know, you both might be on to something."

John quirks an eyebrow. "Oh, yeah? How so?"

Weariness hits with a vengeance before he can answer. He sags against the pillows with a groan.

Carson steps forward, making shooing motions. "All right now, away with the lot of you! Dr. Jackson needs his rest. Not you, lass," when Becky moves to leave. "I'll give ye some privacy for a wee bit. My heartiest congratulations." He winks at them before whisking the curtain around the bed.

"Anything you need?" she asks him, tenderly brushing his hair back from his face. It's a little longer than it was a few years ago, though not nearly as long as back in Seattle. Still, it's grown out just enough so she can run her hands through it whenever she likes.

"Just you," Daniel sighs in sleepy pleasure, leaning into her caressing hand. He yawns. "God, I'm exhausted. Stay here for a while?" Even as he asks his eyes are already closing.

"Sure. I'm not going anywhere. Sleep well." She places a gentle kiss on his forehead. He's already out, lips curved in the most beatific smile.

She settles back in the chair but soon scoots it closer so she can rest her head against his chest. Reveling in his steady heartbeat and soft breathing as her own eyes close, safe beside her beloved.

* * *

For a close-knit community word tends to travel around the colony at close to wormhole speed. Thirty minutes later personnel of all divisions are practically buzzing with the news.

Within the hour Chuck and Radek are already preparing an immediate emergency databurst for transmission to the SGC.

Two hours later the decrypted communique is resting on the desk of General-Governor Jack O'Neill as he comes into his office for the morning.

After giving it a quick once-over his eyebrows rise to his hairline, almost spitting out a mouthful of _klah_ in the process. He swallows and gives it a more careful reading, just to make sure it hasn't changed in the last second.

_It is with great joy the people of Atlantis Colony announce the engagement of Drs. Rebecca Grahme and Daniel Jackson of New Earth. We wish them every happiness. _

_(P.S. to General-Governor O'Neill: Dr. Grahme proposed to Dr. Jackson at his bedside in the infirmary after being injured on a mission.)_

"Huh," he finally says after a long while. "That's something." Then a wide grin splits his face. "Good for you, kids. About damn time."

He reaches for his radio. "Hey, Mac? Have I got news for you..."

* * *

Days pass- which the happy couple hardly notices- before Daniel's released from the infirmary.

To celebrate Atlantis decides to throw them a party in the commons. Such impromptu gatherings serve much the same purpose as on New Earth, and they've provided the perfect excuse for this one, part engagement and part going-away.

Becky's absurdly glad there's something in her stomach to counteract the giddiness she's feeling this night, sitting close by her beloved on one of the couches, soaking up the warmth and fellowship. People shower them- in varying degrees of familiarity with the couple- with well-wishes, handshakes, gentle hugs and even Athosian-style forehead touches.

Everyone's in high spirits, full of good food and drink, chatting and laughing and dancing to music- swing style's especially popular, for some reason- by decent amateur musicians. There's even a piano (donated to the colony last week by Jack via Gate, on Becky's advice), which Radek plays with consummate skill.

With Daniel's permission John takes her for a spin or two around the dance floor ("Remember New Year's Eve in the Mountain?") to be followed by Evan and Carson. Even Rodney cuts in for a turn- surprisingly light on his feet for a scientist and with his hand still bandaged- as a halfway decent partner. Daniel eventually claims her for a few slow dances.

Even before the expedition departed they were already close to becoming one people. Though the colony is forever tied to New Earth by their mutual origins they fully consider themselves Lanteans, having risked their lives for each other many times over and come out all the stronger for it.

Good for them.

Eventually a lull fills the evening and people settle down. Teyla, Halling and Taleweaver Deyna move gracefully to the center of the room, expertly weaving together tales and snatches of song from the time of the Ancestors to the arrival of the Expedition. Even adding their arrival some three weeks ago and the recontact with New Earth to the saga.

Strange to think they're now part of the history of this galaxy, for better or worse.

The stories provide a necessary element of gravitas to the celebration. Afterwards the music returns, more loud and boisterous than ever before as people celebrate with renewed vigor the fact they've lived to see another day.

* * *

Much later they stand on the balcony of their suite, marveling at the brilliant nighttime view, unfamiliar stars and nebulae and the pale sweep of the galactic arm streaking diagonally across the sky.

"Beautiful here, isn't it?" Becky says with a sigh. "I'm half afraid I'm gonna wake up and this will all be just a dream."

Daniel grins down at her. "We must be sharing the same dream. Though I don't think I would've let myself get stabbed in the first place."

"Mmm. Good point." She leans into his left and he pulls back a little, wincing.

"Ah, not right there, please."

"Sorry," shifting to his other side. "How's the wound?"

His hand hovers over the bandage under his shirt, as if dying to scratch. "Stitches are tugging and itching a bit, but otherwise no worse than what happens on an average mission."

"I'm glad." An impish smile. "Wouldn't do for you to die again on me before the wedding, you know."

He rolls his eyes. "Oh, very funny."

"You're the one who brought it up." She pauses, taking no small pleasure in the play of moonlight against his handsome features, the subtle shine of the stone beads on his left wrist, right next to his watch. "So you like the bracelet?"

He lifts his arm a little, admiring. "Uh-huh. Pretty thoughtful of you."

"You can thank Kallan, actually. He thought it kinda serves the same function as the necklace you gave me."

"I remember buying that for you purely on a whim." He gently fingers the hummingbird engraved in gold amid a backdrop of silver swirls where it sits right below her neck, caressing the skin underneath as well. "I'm glad you still have it after all this time."

"So am I." An odd little smile crosses his lips. "What is it?"

"Just that out of everything that's occurred during the past three weeks- coming here, learning about Atlantis and this galaxy, even getting injured on a mission- you proposing to me was the least expected."

She frowns slightly. "You haven't changed your mind, have you?"

"Nope, though I confess to being a little disappointed. You see, I was planning on asking you first."

"Really?" She ducks her head. "Sorry about that."

He gently tilts her chin back up, smiling into her eyes. "Never apologize for being brave, Becky. Not to me, not ever." He pauses. "To be honest I'm glad it happened this way instead."

"Reckless and a bit wacko?"

"Brave and a touch unconventional, perhaps." Long fingers gently stroke her face and down her neck, his teasing touch invoking the most delightful shivers. "But that's one of the things I admire the most about you. You always have another way of looking at things."

"So do you," she says fondly, tucking her head against his chest.

A familiar presence stirs from within.

_~Congratulations on your engagement, Domina.~ _

_Thank you, Huy-Braesealis. And thanks for bringing us here, too. _

_~You are welcome. My thanks in return for providing me with the means to reconnect with my sister. I have missed her company.~  
_

_ My pleasure. _ _ Hopefully we'll be able to visit here more in the future. And maybe someday discover what happened to Lavondis and Caeris. _

_ ~I hope so as well. Atlantis and I are curious as to the fate of our sibling-cities. Your servant, Domina.~ _

"Talking with Huy-Braesealis?" Daniel asks with an indulgent smile. "Good thing I'm used to sharing you with him by now."

"You don't mind, do you?"

"Not when it's brought us this far. You've given us another chance to survive. That's not nothing."

An off-handed shrug. "Wasn't really me, though. It's all Huy-Braesealis, I'm just the conduit."

"Don't sell yourself short. If it wasn't for you none of us would be here now. We wouldn't have been able to defeat Anubis, wouldn't have known anything about either city." Gently wrapping a strand of hair around his fingers then bringing it to his lips. "We wouldn't be standing on this balcony, either."

"Maybe so, but you're the one who had the insight to unlock the Gate in the first place. All this is because of you, not me."

They stare out at the star-filled surface of the water, watching the moons set. Taking a quiet delight in each other's presence, even as she feels a little thrill for the future.

They're getting married. Maybe not right away, but at least it's a certainty instead of a possibility.

"Daniel?"

"Hmm?"

"Do you believe in fate? Like we're fulfilling a destiny, or if all this has been set in motion just for us?"

His brows draw together in thought. "I don't think I do," he finally says. "There have been too many encounters with aliens posing as would-be gods for me to believe in a real, active divinity. Or even destiny, for that matter. We do the best we can, that's all there is to it. Make our own luck."

"Improvising, as Mac might say. That sounds about right." She laughs briefly, then sobers. "Though you know, ever so often I get this feeling I'm being watched-"

"—By someone other than Huy-Braesealis, you mean?"

"Yeah. As if it's-" She shakes her head. "Nah, never mind. Probably just my imagination."

He purses his lips, considering. "Actually I think you're right, someone is watching over you. In fact, I'm certain of it."

"Really? Who?"

An impish smile. "Me, of course."

She rolls her eyes. "Oh, very droll."

"Doesn't mean it's not true." He turns her to face him, cupping one side of her face, thumb stroking her cheek. "And I always will. I look forward to growing old with you, _meu lindo beija-flor_. "

"Me too, _meu belo corvo_." She nestles back into his arms, resting her head against his chest in languid content.

The universe is full of amazing things.

But love between kindred spirits- two solitary introverts taking refuge in one another- must surely be the most amazing of them all.

* * *

Becky zips up her go bag, now including three cozy woven blankets (two blue-gray and the gray split-style, gifted by Deyna), cloth pouches of Teyla's delicious tea and some Athosian wafer cookies in a sturdy basket. "I can't believe it's only been three weeks. There's so much we didn't get to see."

Rodney snorts. "Like a Wraith attack? Oh yeah, those are always loads of fun. We'll try to schedule one for you next time."

"If there is a next time."

John chuckles, patting her on the shoulder. "Oh, there will be, don't worry. Now that we have enough power for regular connections I have a feeling you're gonna be visiting more often than you think. And we'll always leave the welcome mat out for you two."

Daniel nods agreement. "There are sure to be a lot more opportunities for research coming up. As well as other activities." A meaningful glance passes between the two, secret plans doubtless being made.

She chooses to ignore it in favor of grabbing his go bag. Judging by the extra heft it contains the wall hanging from Deyna and select Ancient artifacts loaned by Alex for further study.

He looks a little put out at her gesture. "You don't have to carry that. I can manage just fine on my own."

She waves away his objections. "Look, you were stabbed only a few days ago. Carson's warned against you doing anything too strenuous. Relax, I've got this."

"Hey, let her spoil you for once," John says as he picks up her go bag. "Trust me, the key to a good relationship is knowing when to give in every now and then and let 'em think they've won."

Rodney shoots him a baleful look. "Oh, very funny. Can we get this farewell thing over with so I can get back to work? I have several important projects going on and those halfwit minions of mine are going to bungle them up completely if I'm not there to supervise."

"Sure, whatever you say," with an easy smirk that earns him another glare.

In the Gateroom Becky's a little taken aback by all the people waiting to see them off, but willingly exchanges forehead touches, hugs and handshakes with dear friends old and new. Xiaoli, Alex and Evan with Nora (more siblings to come someday, she's sure), Teyla and Ronon. Carson and Radek, Miko and Laura.

"Thank you for your help. You and Huy-Braesealis have given us more of a chance than we've ever had before," Elizabeth says as they embrace. "Now we can truly give the people of Pegasus the opportunity to free themselves from the Wraith. You're both welcome to visit again at any time."

"My pleasure. And thank you for your hospitality. I'm looking forward to telling the New Earth council that Atlantis Colony is alive and well. I just have one last thing to ask everyone here, if that's all right with you."

"Go ahead."

She turns and addresses the crowd, spreading her arms wide. "Now or never, folks. Is there anyone who wants to come back with us?" Not a single person answers in the affirmative. Just as she figured. "Okay Chuck, dial us out of here."

Eight chevrons light up and the wormhole establishes itself, settling into the familiar shimmering, water-like surface of the event horizon.

Becky hefts their go bags and glances one final time around the Gateroom, taking in the striking architecture of Atlantis and all the dear friends who now call it home.

A whisper of a silvery, blue-green presence enters her mind, touching the pale gold, amber and russet within.

_~Farewell, brother. I look forward to keeping in contact with you through the astria porta.~ _

_~So do I, sister. Farewell.~ _

_Thank you for your hospitality as well, 'Lantis. I hope we can return someday. _

_~As do I, Domina. You will always be welcome in my city. Until we meet again.~ _

Daniel grins down at her. "Back into the fray?"

"Yeah, why not."

Together they step through the Gate-

-arriving on the other side to the sound of applause from Gateroom personnel and a proud Mac, Jack, Sam, Teal'c and Janet waiting at the end of the ramp.

"Howdy kids," Jack quips. "What took you so long?"

* * *

"Good to have you guys back. The place just hasn't been the same without ya."

Daniel rolls his eyes, gingerly settling onto the infirmary bed while Janet examines the scar under the bandage, admiring Carson's neat handiwork. "We've only been gone three weeks, Jack. Nothing close to your time on Edora."

"Oh, you don't know how much I've missed that sunny disposition of yours, Danny. Now let me get this straight- all the wacko stuff happening over there and absolutely no one wanted to come back?"

"Yeah. They're bound and determined to make a go of it in spite of the danger. They've made Atlantis their home for good."

"Huh." Jack rocks back on his heels. "More power to 'em, I guess. Though the thought of life-sucking space vampires gives me a serious case of the creeps."

"You and me both," Becky agrees.

"The Wraith do appear to be a most formidable foe," Teal'c observes. "I trust Atlantis has adequate defenses?"

"They have the same shield capability as Huy-Braesealis, but we never got to see any drones in action. Nor anything like the _aktina_, though there may yet be an equivalent tucked away in an unexplored lab for all we know. They do have their own Jumpers, at least. And the city flies as well."

Jack's eyes widen. "Get out. A flying city for real? Sweet. Piloted by Sheppard, I assume?"

Daniel nods. "Atlantis has a control chair, just like Huy-Braesealis. Being the strongest ATA-positive the city's AI inducted him as its _Dominus_, so he has that duty in addition to Military Commander and leader of its flagship Gate team."

"Huh. Busy guy." He looks impressed despite himself. "How do they feel about keeping in regular contact with us?"

"Elizabeth said they'd welcome it, though they're certainly not lacking in supplies these days," Becky says. "All their manufactories have been brought online now, along with greenhouses and trade agreements in place with local allies." A thought comes to her. "You know, we can easily establish regular commerce between the two galaxies now, either by ship or Gate. That is, once we find a stable enough energy source to power the transgalactic crossing."

"Which you already accomplished during the fugue state," Sam remarks. "Connecting the ZPM to the DHD and using the residual neutrino energy stored in the Stargate for a power boost was a stroke of genius."

Becky stares at her with a mixture of both amazement and dismay. "You know, I still can't remember everything Huy-Braesealis made me do. I hope I didn't hurt anyone, or at least not on purpose."

Jack waves his hand in a dismissive gesture. "Forgiven and forgotten, You weren't yourself then, we get it. Even before Zero Hour someone's brain getting hijacked was just another Tuesday."

"All the same, I really oughta pay a visit to Huy-Braesealis once I can make arrangements for a Jumper trip. He'll be tickled pink to have regular contact restored with his sister city."

Daniel frowns. "Um, getting back on track, we should remember Atlantis is supposed to be an autonomous yet affiliated colony, as well as our contingency plan. We did agree to a hands-off policy before Departure, after all."

"We did and it makes sense," Becky agrees. "I'm just saying Atlantis and here could serve as trading hubs for extra security, since both are protected by Ancient technology. Moreover, we'd only welcome in any trading partners we already trust, maybe give them conditional IDCs as an additional safeguard or whatever. And we've got some empty warehouses near the base we can let them use to store stuff while they do their business in our forums."

Jack rubs his chin. "Ambitious but doable, I guess. Still angling for that commonwealth notion of yours, huh Beck?"

"It is a worthy attempt to begin a lasting peace, O'Neill," Teal'c says, thoughtfully.

She smiles at him, pleased by his unexpected endorsement. "Exactly. Besides, we're too deeply entrenched in the fate of both galaxies to shirk our responsibilities now. Elizabeth feels the same."

"Yeah, I hear ya. In that case, why don't we set up a commuting schedule with Caldwell's _Daedalus_ for starters then hash out the rest of the details in council later. Now on to more important news." Velvet brown eyes twinkle with mirth. "So Danny, I hear you're gonna be my nephew-in-law for real."

"Oh god, that's right," he groans. "Becky, I'm sorry but I'm taking it all back. I'd rather be possessed by a Goa'uld than have the likes of Jack for an uncle-in-law."

Her eyes go wide. "You'd what?"

"Dammit Daniel! Don't you dare make my niece suffer a broken heart." Jack's voice has taken on a hard edge. "I swear if you do I'll kill you, and make damn sure it's permanent."

She spins around to gape at him, even more scandalized. "You wouldn't!"

"Wouldn't I?" The two men glare at each other.

"Jack..."

"Daniel..."

Becky groans, holding her head in her hands. How did she let this get so out of control?

And where's Uncle Mac when she needs him, anyway? Surely he'd be the voice of reason in all this.

She urgently turns to the others. "Guys, do something before they kill each other. Please!"

No one says a word. Sam bites at her lower lip, Janet's mouth sets in a thin line and Teal'c remains as impassive as ever.

It's official. Everyone except for her has gone absolutely nuts.

The silence stretches even further, making Becky more and more anxious with every passing second.

Then finally she just loses it, deliberately throwing herself in between her uncle and her fiancé, arms spread out to either side in a protective gesture. "All right, I've had it up to here with you two! Apologize to each other this instant or I'll throttle you both. I'll do it, I'm warning you!"

Jack lifts a single eyebrow, his steely gaze shifting to her. "Oh you would, would you?" he asks in a quiet, dangerous tone.

She assumes a defiant stance with hands on hips, firing her own glare right back at him. Stubbornness runs in the family. "Yeah, I would. I love him, and I'll do anything to protect him from you- Uncle or not, General-Governor or not- hell, even black ops training or not."

Daniel looks smug until she rounds on him in turn. "And don't think you're gonna get away with insulting him like that, either! He and Mac have been there for me when I needed them most and I love them equally. Besides he's a good man underneath the gruffness and snark, you of all people know that."

For a split second she catches a playful glance out of the corner of her eye from Jack and shared between the five of them. Would've literally passed right over her head if she hadn't been trained in their peculiar version of nonverbal communication.

They're teasing her. And she fell for it.

Unbelievable.

She throws up her hands in disgust. "Oh for crying out loud! Like you're all six years old or something. I give up."

The tension immediately deflates. Sam and Janet break out into wide grins. Even Teal'c looks distinctly amused.

Jack smirks. "Well, I guess we've been told off. Right, guys?"

"Oh, I found it pretty touching myself," Daniel quips. "Never had anyone willing to throttle you in my defense before."

Becky rolls her eyes, slapping him lightly on the arm. "God, you're just as bad as him, I swear."

"Who, me?" He deliberately does his most innocent expression- complete with signature pout- for her, which he knows darn well makes her melt inside.

Oh yeah, she'll get him for that. But later, after he recovers a bit more.

Sam embraces her, chuckling. "Congratulations! So proud of you for popping the question. I don't think I could be that brave."

Teal'c nods in satisfaction. "Indeed. Are we to keep these glad tidings to ourselves, or may others be informed as well?"

Jack rocks back on his heels, looking a little sheepish. "Yeah, about that. I think word may have already gotten around after that emergency databurst. You know how big a gossip Walter is."

Becky groans. "Let me guess, the SGC and the settlement plus all the bases? Including Atlantis that's gonna be a hell of a invite list."

"Hey, it's the wedding of the decade around here. Though honestly I'm more surprised you kids didn't have the ceremony right there on the spot. Would've been just as valid here."

"I know, but we'd already planned to have it here regardless, since I'm counting on you and Mac to give me away."

He beams at her. "That's my girl. Looking forward to it. Hope you two enjoyed your vacation, 'cause Quinn's been in way over his head since you left. Also, Major Begay has requested your help prepping for a negotiation mission to that place we get the textiles from- Tarzan or Tarmac or-" A vague wave of his hand. "Help me out here, Carter?"

"Tarraka, sir."

"Right, that place. Before then you've both got a few days off. Go home, unpack, get some sleep, that sort of thing. Good job on the recon, kids. Looking forward to reading your full report. Anything you want to add, Janet?"

"Everything looks satisfactory to me. Carson does good work. However, I recommend that he spends a lot of time in bed to make sure it's fully healed. I'm sure Becky can keep an eye on him."

Becky returns her cheeky wink with a grin. "You bet I can. Tell Mac and Cassie we'll see them for dinner tomorrow, okay?"

"Excellent," Jack says in his best Mr. Burns imitation. "Oh, and one final question, guys. Do you think Sheppard and the rest are cracked for wanting to stay in that wacko galaxy?"

Becky shares a knowing glance with Daniel. "On the contrary. I think they're exactly where they're supposed to be."

He smirks. "Yeah, I think so too. See ya later." Everyone present knows an O'Neill-style dismissal when they hear one.

Daniel smiles and takes her hand. "Ready to go home?"

"Oh yeah, you have no idea," she sighs.

Much as she loved being in Atlantis New Earth's more familiar and comfortable, especially with her unconventional family present. Though she wouldn't mind living there if the contingency plan ever had to go in effect, either.

After all, home doesn't have to consist merely of four walls and a roof over her head. It can also be two compelling, ocean-blue eyes and a strong, steady heartbeat.

Wherever she and Daniel make their home in the future- New Earth or Atlantis or some other planet- she knows they'll be together for always.

Which is exactly where _they _are supposed to be.

* * *

_Blink-and-you'll-miss-it mention of SG-1 S3 E17, "A Hundred Days."_

_ Becky and Daniel's surprise wedding ceremony on PX7-246 can be found in Ch. 2 of Plus One. _

_Please see A Linguist's Guide to New Earth on AO3 for translations._


	25. Treachery

"C'mon in, Danny. Shut the door and have a seat."

"Jack, you have a really annoying sense of timing," he grumbles, settling in between Sam and Teal'c on the couch. Janet, Mac and Fred Begay of SG-9 are also present, which is puzzling. "We're right in the middle of a major translation project. What's so important it couldn't wait until later, and why couldn't Becky come with me?"

"Because I don't want her to know," as intent and serious as he's ever been. "The following is classified, folks. It's not leaving this room. Don't repeat it anywhere else on the base or in the settlement, and especially not in Becky's hearing. Understood?" Everyone nods agreement.

Daniel crosses his arms over his chest. "Spit it out, Jack."

"I'm gettin' to it. So." He picks up a communique from his desk. "This came in from Colonel Ellis at Gamma Base an hour ago. Lieutenant Albert Norris has gone AWOL."

A chill runs down Daniel's back. Sam worries at her lower lip. Mac groans and passes a hand over his face. Begay and Janet both frown.

"I do not understand, O'Neill," Teal'c remarks, a slight downward pull of his mouth the only sign of his concern. "Was he not to remain there in permanent exile, as punishment for his conduct against Becky Grahme and other civilians?"

Jack nods. "Yeah, as per Hammond's original orders. He's been under close watch and every request he's made for promotion or transfer off base has been denied, and I saw no reason to change that. But apparently he figured out how to smuggle himself offworld during one of the regular trading missions to a nearby market world for supplemental supplies. To make matters worse, classified materials went missing from Ellis' office around the same time."

Daniel sighs, lifting his glasses to pinch at the bridge of his nose. No telling how much damage can be done to offworld operations with that kind of intel. "How long ago did it happen?"

"Ellis reckons about a day, maybe a day and a half. He wasn't in his quarters when they did the customary nighttime check, and didn't show up either for morning roll call. They'd already conducted a thorough search of the base and at least 160 kilometers all around the site before calling it in."

"Odds are he'll be trying to make contact with either the Lucian Alliance or one of the surviving System Lords," Sam remarks, "offering them information in exchange for sanctuary in their domains. Any one of them could use him to seek advantage over us."

"As if we don't have enough on our plate already, Carter. Just peachy, folks- a trained Marine officer's loose in the galaxy with classified information and we have no freaking clue where he is or what he's planning."

Mac's expression is grim. "And to top it all off the guy's got nothing to lose. Which makes him even more unpredictable and dangerous."

"He had issues with Becky even before New Year's Eve," Daniel notes, trying to tamp down his own rising panic. "He sees her as the architect of his humiliation, especially since she suggested his exile in the first place. She'll be his primary target, with the SGC by extension a close second."

Jack nods, glumly. "That's what I'm most worried about. He doesn't have any friends or acquaintances here so I'm not worried about Becky's security on base or in the settlement. For that reason I'm inclined to order her grounded for the duration."

"Which may not work in and of itself," Mac warns. "You know how sensitive and curious she is, especially if you hold her back from offworld missions without a reasonable explanation. She's only gonna start digging."

"Hmm, good point. How about a medical excuse, Janet?"

She shakes her head. "Absolutely not. Becky passed her last physical with flying colors. It'd go against the Hippocratic Oath for me to falsify a medical condition just for your peace of mind."

"We could send her and Daniel back to Atlantis, sir," Sam suggests. "She'd be safer in the Pegasus Galaxy than here until we can find Norris."

"I wouldn't call that wacko place safe, Carter, not with those creepy life-sucking vampires out there. Besides, splitting your team's not an option right now. I had to postpone or reassign a lot of missions already for you, ever since Huy-Braesealis got her into that fugue state. You guys have way too much of a backlog to do this long term. I don't like letting her offworld with Norris on the loose but we'll just have to have extra vigilance for her sake."

"Which would make her all the more suspicious if it's obvious," Daniel points out.

Begay rubs his chin thoughtfully. A gentle giant of a man with classic Navajo features, his father one of the legendary Code Talkers of WWII. Also a brilliant diplomat and negotiator in his own right with a clear "win-win" philosophy, which is why Hammond had chosen him to lead SG-9 after Benton and most of the original team was killed on Lantona. "General, speaking for myself and Colonel Edwards, Dr. Grahme has always been a welcome addition to our teams when she's not otherwise accompanying Dr. Jackson. We know how to watch out for her during a mission without looking like we're hovering."

"Good to hear, Major. That's a load off my mind. Okay campers, we've got a twofold operation here- figure out what Norris is up to and bring him to justice without mentioning any of this to Becky. Are we all on the same page?"

Mac, Janet, Sam, Teal'c and Begay nod firm agreement.

Daniel squirms in his seat. He has serious misgivings about lying to his beloved. They've always been honest with each other.

But at the same time he's just as concerned for her well-being as they are. Norris is out for revenge, and he'll take down the SGC and New Earth itself to get to her if he has to.

Jack lifts an eyebrow in his direction. "Daniel?"

He sighs, hoping they're not making a huge mistake. "Sure, Jack."

"Great. See you guys later."

He lingers behind after the rest of the impromptu conspiracy leaves. Before he can open his mouth Jack holds up a finger. "Look, I know what you're gonna say. I'm not happy about it either but Becky's got a lot on her plate and I don't want her losing sleep over the guy. So do me a favor and keep this one close to your vest for a change, okay?"

"Okay. But you know she's perceptive enough to realize when someone's lying to her. If she finds out we're going behind her back she may never forgive us."

"Yeah, I do. That's a risk we'll just have to take." Jack sighs and leans forward in his chair, rubbing the heels of his hands against his forehead. "Damn, I really hate this job sometimes. If it were anyone else she'd be fully in the know but Mac thinks keeping her in the dark right now has gotta be better than watching her gradually go off the deep end, and I agree."

"This was Mac's idea?"

He nods. "Yeah. Been there himself a few times back in the day, and when Murdoc kidnapped Becky he almost lost it anyway. Hell, so did I once I heard about it." There's a tightness to his jaw, holding in memories better left unspoken.

Sometimes Daniel wishes Nick had been as solicitous and protective towards him when he needed it most, as Jack and Mac are of their niece even when she doesn't. He wonders if his grandfather ever found what he'd been looking for, out among the giant aliens.

He rubs the back of his neck and sighs. "Okay, I'll do my best. Under protest, though."

"Understood. I'm not comfortable lying to her either, believe me. Reminds me too much of the whole rogue NID thing. Always hated having to do that to you guys, even if I was under orders."

"I hated the fact you were ordered to do it too." He fixes Jack with a stern look. "So when the time comes to explain this to Becky we won't be drawing straws. It's all on you and Mac."

"I hear ya, Danny. Get outta here, or she'll be wondering what's keeping ya."

* * *

Later that night Daniel watches Becky as she prepares for bed after their shower, drying and brushing her hair and pulling on one of his faded university t-shirts. Though several sizes too big on her he has to admit wearing his shirts makes her even more irresistible in his eyes. The sight of the button-up she wore after the Memorial in the closet still brings a smile to his face.

When he returned to the lab after the meeting she wanted to know why he'd been called away. He mumbled something about a quick briefing for a future mission and an argument with Jack, both of which she accepted at face value but left him with a bad taste in his mouth.

He's gone behind her back twice already, and after the last time swore never to do so again. He hates lying to her.

Yet now he has no choice.

Damn Jack for putting him in this position. Damn Norris, too.

"Daniel?"

"Hmm?"

"Is something wrong? You've been in a weird mood ever since you got back from that meeting earlier."

Oh, this is going to be so much harder than he thought. She's pretty perceptive.

He quickly replaces his troubled expression with a gentle, reassuring smile. "It's nothing, just Jack being Jack. You know how ridiculous he gets sometimes."

A wry smile. "Yeah, I do. But seriously, if there's a problem you'd tell me, right? I mean, we did agree that no matter what happens we'll face it together."

"Of course. There's nothing going on, I promise."

She shoots him a skeptical look. "You sure?"

"I'm sure." He climbs into bed, slipping an arm around her and breathing in her scent. Fresh from the shower, a pleasing hint of the local version of lavender. Soap and shampoo are two of Chemistry and Botany's most popular jointly-produced products.

She snuggles close to rest her head against his shoulder, uttering a contented sigh. "This is nice. I'm glad we're together."

"So am I." They share a long, sweet kiss which in due course leads to much more.

He wants nothing more than to stand between Becky and the dangers of the universe forever, even as he's fully aware she can take care of herself. They haven't set a date for the wedding since returning from Atlantis but he's not worried. It'll happen sooner or later.

He's looking forward to it.

Afterwards they lie entwined, sleepily trading caresses and endearments in many languages. Savoring each other's presence in the midst of a languor so warm and complete it makes him forget about Norris.

For a time, anyway.

* * *

Over the next six months a relative level of peace and quiet reigns in the galaxy. Which should've alerted them- as a rueful Jack would admit later- that the proverbial other shoe was about to drop.

And it does, beginning with little things:

A minor trading partner backs out of a deal without explanation.

Tribal or government representatives refuse even the most casual meetings.

Informants on neutral worlds make excuses or disappear altogether.

And other such inconveniences, unrelated at first glance yet in hindsight clearly designed to hinder their offworld operations, not to mention their nascent trading network and commonwealth.

Then without warning it escalates.

Gate teams return worn down and wounded, citing surprise ambushes by Jaffa offworld.

Th_e Prometheus _ and _ Daedalus _ (when not commuting between New Earth and Atlantis) limp into the Alpha Base shipyards, reeling from space battles in sectors where no action had been expected.

More often than not Jack's seen storming around on base in full dress blues after attending funeral services for personnel in the settlement's cemetery. Daniel's learned the hard way to give him plenty of space when his jaw clenches and left eyelid starts twitching.

All of which add up to one inescapable conclusion, as confirmed by the Tok'ra via Jacob and Selmak. After being in the wind for months Norris has resurfaced in Goa'uld territory and found a willing ally, who now knows more than they're comfortable with.

In private Jack strips him of his rank, declaring him a traitor and condemning him to death _ in absentia_. A harsh sentence but Daniel's not about to challenge his friend's right as General-Governor to make a summary judgement either.

There's no question that Norris is a threat to New Earth in general and Becky in particular. He must be found and dealt with, one way or another.

After that Daniel can stop the deception once and for all. If she ever finds out he's going behind her back again it could do irrevocable harm to their relationship. He feels guilty for hoping she never does.

But he can't lose the mirror of his soul. Not now, not ever. He just can't.

* * *

As a social scientist Becky's trained to make observations, develop and analyze hypotheses, and construct theories fitting the information available. So it doesn't take long to consider everything that's been going on lately and come to a terrifying conclusion.

There's a mole inside the SGC.

Unfortunately it's all mere speculation at this point, with no concrete evidence to back it up. Not much use in bringing her suspicions to Jack's attention based on nothing more than a gut feeling no matter how reliable. Best to keep quiet for now.

Yet for months she's been picking up on some very odd vibes coming from not only Jack but Mac, Sam, even Janet. Daniel in particular can't dissemble well enough to fool her no matter how hard he tries. They're all hiding something.

As _ Domina _ of Huy-Braesealis, council member and Daniel's assistant she's as deep into the business of the NEDF and the SGC as anyone. Even Jack's sought her advice on more than one occasion, and not merely on dessert choices for the refectory either.

It's weird but she simply cannot shake the notion that she's being kept out of the loop on purpose, for whatever reason. Which is pretty irksome in and of itself.

And she's known how to deal with classified matters since before the Big Quake, for crying out loud. Even as a teenager because of Mac's occupation she'd been granted associate status at the Phoenix Foundation, which meant access to their emergency protocols as well as a wider awareness of covert affairs than her peers.

Becky's good at keeping secrets. Everyone knows that.

She only wishes they'd just tell her already.

* * *

After months of setbacks and refusals there's finally a glimmer of hope. The Tarrakan Council of Guilds has invited SG-9 to their capitol for a meeting with representatives from their own extensive trading network. The current Council Head- Master Barranco of the powerful Weavers' Guild- has particularly requested the presence of "the illustrious Lady Rebecca" at the negotiation table, there being no equivalent title in their society for an academic degree.

Of all the worlds Becky's seen so far she enjoys visiting Tarrraka the most. Such a friendly and generous people. She's genuinely looking forward to the mission.

Funny that Daniel isn't.

"I don't know what you're so worried about," she comments while suiting up in the locker room. "I've been there plenty of times before with SG-9. They're staunch allies and honest trading partners, not to mention gracious hosts and good friends. I'm practically an honorary aunt to Barranco's daughter Penarra, for god's sake. It's only an overnight mission besides. I can handle myself."

"I know. I've always had faith in you, Becky. It's just that..." He shrugs, rubbing the back of his neck. One of his most adorable traits when embarrassed.

She zips up her backpack, makes sure the zat is securely in its holster. The Tarrakans are trustworthy enough but it never hurts to be prepared nonetheless. "You've been skittish for months, don't think I haven't noticed. Is there top-secret stuff going on that I don't know about? I mean, you'd tell me if something's making you lose confidence in me, right?"

"No!" A shifty look on his face comes and goes so quickly she wonders if she only imagined it. "Um, I mean yes. Of course I would."

She loves it when he gets flustered. It's cute. "Then what's making you so nervous? We've always confided in one another." She comes closer, reaching up to lovingly trace a finger over his sensual lips. "C'mon, tell me. I won't laugh, promise."

"I know it's ridiculous, but..." He sighs, ducking his head. "Ever since this morning I've had a strong gut feeling that something bad might happen to you today while you're offworld."

"So that explains why you were so ardent with your wake-up call. Much more pleasant than the alarm clock, I have to say." She winks and he flushes. "Seriously, I get it. Remember the first time you guys went to Kelowna? I was so certain I was about to lose you and absolutely no one could convince me otherwise, not even Hammond or Janet. It was like I was holding my breath the entire time you were gone, and it wasn't until I saw you emerge unharmed through the event horizon that I could breathe again."

"And then you took mine away when you kissed me, in front of the Gate with everyone watching," he admits with a fond smile. "Jack was collecting favs around the base for a long while afterwards."

"You mean he'd opened a pool about us kissing in the Gateroom? And cleaned up to boot?"

"Pretty much."

She rolls her eyes. "Why am I not surprised? At least he's never had a problem with our relationship."

"As if his disapproval would ever have stopped us." His smile is warmer now, bending to capture her lips. "_Colibra mea._"

"_Corbul meu._" She rests her head against his chest, reveling in their closeness, how they just seem to fit together perfectly despite the height difference. "You know, I did hear Jack's having Walter set up a betting pool as to when we'll have the ceremony."

He groans. "Oh, god. You think they'd notice if we eloped back to Atlantis?"

"Probably. And most likely show up on the _Daedalus_ three weeks later for the reception."

Her radio chirps. "Dr. Grahme? Begay here. We're ready when you are."

"Copy that, Major. On my way." She looks up at Daniel. "Hey, don't worry. I'll be fine. When I get back we'll choose a date and ask Perkins if he wants to be our proxy for the pool. We'll clean up and split the take three ways."

"Beating Jack at his own game." His lips curl up in a sly smile. "I like it. You're getting to be pretty sneaky these days."

"I learned from the best," she quips, meeting him halfway for one more kiss then shouldering her backpack. "Now come see me off, I got a wormhole to catch."

* * *

Tarraka as a whole has a very cosmopolitan attitude for what used to be part of a Goa'uld domain. Ever since the demise of Anubis contact with New Earth and other cultures through the Gate has helped it become a major influence in the Milky Way, the quality of its textiles among the finest in the entire galaxy.

Negotiations are held in the capitol city of Neutorral, in a government building which displays the planet's prosperity and pride with ornate carvings and huge tapestries on the walls, inlaid marble floors and high scalloped arches, long arcades leading to gardens with serene pools of water and courtyards with tinkling fountains.

Begay- a canny negotiator and shrewd judge of character- does all the talking as a matter of course, assisted by Becky along with sociologist Dr. Diana Goodwin, Captain Laurence Holt and Lieutenant Carl Grogan, the sole surviving member of the original SG-9 after the disaster at Lantona.

Guildmaster Barranco is a man of medium height and build with dusky skin, straight glossy dark hair and wide-set gray eyes. He's normally Begay's match in this area with a reputation for openness, competence and honesty.

But not today, it seems. There's a furtiveness to his gaze that Becky's never seen before, uncertainty in his movements. Not to mention he's constantly fidgeting with a small necklace of blue beads in his hands, which his daughter wore the last time she was a guest in their home. All very worrisome.

Begay leans over to whisper in her ear. "Something's going on with him. We're due for the midday meal and siesta, so if he invites you to his place could you get him to confide in you?"

"Yes, sir. To be honest I'd like to find out myself. I've never seen him this nervous before."

As it happens he approaches her himself when the morning session's over. "Lady Rebecca, I apologize for my behavior today. I have been rather...unwell...of late."

"My sorrow to hear that, Master Barranco. I hope you feel better soon. Nothing wrong at home, I trust."

"No, no, nothing like that." He fiddles with the necklace some more, catches her noticing and tucks it out of sight with a noticeable flush on his cheeks. "Would you like to join me and my daughter for the midday meal at my residence? Since your last visit Penarra has talked of nothing more than becoming a negotiator and scholar like yourself one day."

"I'd be delighted. Let me clear it first with Major Begay."

It's bad manners among his people to mention names of other family members in public conversation. She's getting all sort of awkward vibes off him now. There's definitely something wrong.

Time to get to the bottom of this.

* * *

The Guildmaster's residence is not nearly as elaborate or imposing as the government building yet pretty impressive nonetheless with its carved stone and high arched windows, the chambers and gardens within reflecting a warm family atmosphere.

Strangely quiet though, as neither the housekeeper nor Penarra are waiting at the portico entrance to greet them as is the custom. The surrounding area is also conspicuous with the distinct lack of traffic.

Becky frowns, a shiver running down her spine. All of a sudden this smells like a setup. Guess she shouldn't have declined Begay's suggestion that Grogan accompany her for extra protection after all.

She turns to her host. "Master Barranco, what's the meaning of this? Where's Penarra?"

He only swallows and tugs at the standing collar of his tunic, sweat beading on his forehead. His ornate robes of office drag in the dust but he doesn't even seem to care. The bodyguards hired by the Weavers' Guild hang back as well with uneasy expressions. Another sign of trouble.

She reaches for her radio. Time to call for backup, three clicks in swift succession answered with two from the other members of the team as acknowledgement of impending trouble.

The heavy carved door opens and Jaffa warriors spill onto the empty street and surround her, brandishing staff weapons. "_Tau'ri, kree shak!_"

So many to capture the likes of her? She supposes she ought to be flattered, in an obscure way.

Just peachy. This is what she gets for blindly trusting in a friend's goodwill.

The Jaffa in charge points to her._ "Chel nok!_"

The rest advance and without conscious thought she retaliates, blocking and striking with hands and feet, using every trick Jack and the others have drilled into her until some reactions are practically instinctive.

At one point she manages to snatch a staff weapon from a guard and- grateful for extra instruction from Teal'c- inflict as much damage as she can. Finally one Jaffa wrenches it away from her grasp while another knocks the wind out of her, forcing her to the ground.

From the sidelines Barranco wrings his hands. "Lady Rebecca, my profoundest sorrow for this deception but I had no choice. They have taken my Penarra, my little girl. She is all I have." The despair in the poor guy's eyes is so pitiful she can't bring himself to hate him for his treachery. "I will make it up to you, I promise."

"Start with them," she gasps, jerking her chin in the direction of Begay and the rest of the team arriving on the scene. Peaceful negotiators changing to battle-hardened warriors in seconds flat, P90s drawn and aimed. "Tell them everything you know. I'll try to find your daughter and get her back to you if I can. You have my word."

"I will. The Divine bless you, Lady."

The Jaffa in charge barks commands into a communicator. Horizontal rings drop down, capturing Becky flanked by guards in the center. In the blink of an eye her surroundings have changed to the typical angular gold interior of an Al'kesh.

More Jaffa advance on her, confiscating zat, radio and tac vest. A priest flourishes some kind of injection device and jabs it against her neck.

All she knows after that is darkness.

* * *

_Notes: _

_AWOL= Absent With Out Leave _

_Brief reference to S05 E20, "The Sentinel" and Family Resemblance Part II in my Domestic Adventures 'verse._

_As always, see A Linguist's Guide to New Earth on AO3 for translations._

_For more about the remarkable Navajo Code Talkers who served in WWII, consult Wikipedia or your preferred search engine._


	26. Snakes and Agents

_A word of caution- this chapter makes reference here and there to torture and some injury, though nothing graphic. Essential to the story, I'm afraid. Thank you for understanding._

* * *

_Who am I? _

_ Where am I? _

_ What's happened to me? _

_ Am I alive? _

_ Am I dead? _

_ What will happen next? _

_ Only one way to find out. _

_ Wake up, Grahme. _

_ Wake up. _

* * *

Becky opens her eyes, blinking in the soft white glow surrounding her. She groans and tries to sit up, cursing softly as she realizes her movements are extremely limited at the moment.

She swallows, fighting a rising panic. Her induction as _ Domina _ to the City of Earth may have cured her of claustrophobia but the memory of the landslide is never far from her thoughts.

Especially when finding herself in a Goa'uld sarcophagus.

She briefly wonders how she got here. And groans as the memories come to her in painful, technicolor-and-stereo-sound detail.

Arrival by ringed transporter directly inside the fortress, still groggy from the sedative. Which faded quickly after a brief stint with a priest, administering bouts of agony with the Goa'uld version of a cattle prod ramped up to eleven between interminable questions.

If it weren't for her uncles' advice and training she would never have been able to resist as long as she did, to the point where the priest got fed up and delivered one final, fatal jolt.

Then nothing.

Now she's alive again, filled with energy and an uncanny sense of well-being. The best feeling in the world, and the most terrifying at the same time.

Hopefully she'll never have to do this again. Goa'uld sarcophagi are dangerously addictive for humans.

Next time she sees Daniel she can tell him they finally have something else in common. And there has to be a next time, surely he must be scouring the galaxy for her with Jack and the others by now. The SGC leaves no one behind, after all.

The cover slides open. A tow-headed man with almost colorless eyes and gaunt features glowers at her with hands on hips. The black-and-gold uniform he's wearing is not a good fit.

Albert Norris, her would-be assailant that last New Year's Eve under the Mountain. Disgraced and exiled for the past seven years to Gamma Base. Figures he's the traitor.

Not that surprising to see him allied with Goa'uld either, as it explains all the recent setbacks. She takes no pleasure in the fact her gut feelings were correct, as usual.

He steps back and gestures at two Jaffa guards who haul her out of the sarcophagus, their grip tight enough to leave bruises on her arms under the field jacket. Her legs wobble a bit and she stumbles on the black marble floor.

"Gotta admit you held out under torture far longer than I thought you would, brat."

"You know what they say. Takes a licking and keeps on ticking." Thank goodness her uncles taught by example. Flippancy makes a useful cover against fear.

A derisive snort. "You sound way too much like O'Neill. Always with the damned jokes."

"I'm just getting started. Scraping the bottom of the barrel, aren't you? Face it Norris, you're nothing but a two-bit traitor serving a two-bit snake." She doesn't even bother to conceal her contempt.

The impact of his slap across her face hurts like hell but Becky refuses to give him the satisfaction of seeing any weakness.

She delicately licks the blood trickling from her lip, returns his glare with a cool stare of her own. "That's the best you got? Honestly, I'm not impressed."

Norris scowls. "Shut up brat, or I'll-"

"Or you'll what?" Lifting her chin in defiance, steeling herself for the inevitable agony to come.

Slow, ironic clapping from the shadows. "Enough, Lieutenant. I believe you have made your point. And so has she." That eerie doubled voice gives her the creeps, as always.

Norris lowers his arm with effort, awkwardly dips his head. "Lord Ba'al."

A devilishly handsome man in black and gold steps forward into the light, eyes glowing as they peruse her form, a sardonic smile on his lips. "So this is the illustrious Rebecca Grahme. A pleasure to meet you at last."

"Feeling's not mutual," she says shortly. "Why am I here?"

He lifts an elegant eyebrow. "Other than the fact I desired to meet you in person? The lieutenant here requested your presence as a reward for services rendered. He has provided so many useful insights, I saw no harm in indulging a whim."

Norris puffs up a bit at the words and smirks at her.

Becky sighs and raises her eyes heavenward, addressing the vaulted ceiling arching above their heads. "I wonder what it is about parasitic tyrants and pathetic traitors that makes them speak and posture like third-rate actors in a badly-written play?"

Norris bristles but Ba'al actually chuckles. "I admire your bravura, little Tau'ri. A pity your words will come to nothing, but the spirit behind them amuses me. I look forward to continuing this conversation later."

"My lord," Norris begins, "I will personally see to her incarceration-"

A peremptory wave silences him. "That will not be necessary. We have other matters to discuss." He gestures and two guards step forward. "Take her away."

Binders are slapped around her wrists, none too gently. The disturbing, colorless gaze of Norris bores into her back as she's led out of the room.

* * *

The guards lead her through corridors and innumerable twists and turns but she does her best to create a crude mental map as they go. When they arrive at the prison level every cell is empty save for one holding a little girl staring at them on the other side of a clear panel with dusky skin and glossy black hair.

So that answers that question.

Becky gives her a weary smile and wiggles her fingers in greeting. Her gray eyes widen and she waves back, a little hesitant.

One guard pokes at a control pad and an opaque panel clears and slides open, to reveal a neighboring cell. A single window and dim indirect lighting provide the only illumination for a space devoid of furniture save for a narrow cot against one wall with a blanket folded at its foot. Not exactly a hotel suite but a step up from the usual dingy stone cellars and prisons she's found herself in, usually with SG-1.

"Hey, can I get room service yet? And I'm sure I requested a more comfy mattress for the bed when I made the reservation. Some down pillows would be nice, too." Making no reply they remove the binders from her aching wrists and leave her alone.

A touch on the keypad and the panel becomes opaque, giving off sparks when she touches it. No luck getting out that way.

"Lady Rebecca?" A soft, sweet voice wafts down to her through the opening of a ventilation grille high above her head.

"Hello, Penarra. How are you?"

"Tired and cold, but well. And you?"

"I'm fine. Don't worry about me."

A brief silence, then Penarra sighs. "This is all my fault."

"Of course it isn't. Why would you think that?"

"I overheard Papa in his study talking to the bad men. They wanted to take me and force him to do something really awful in return. I was so scared I ran out of the house, but they trapped me in their rings and stuck something in my neck. It made me very sleepy and I woke up here. I keep asking when I can see Papa again but no one says."

Becky sighs. "It's not your fault, sweet. I made a foolish decision once and now we're both paying for it. I deserve the blame for this, not you."

"I cannot believe that. Papa says in this life we are only responsible for our own actions, not anyone else's. So this is really the fault of the bad men, is it not?"

The naive certainty in her voice brings a small, sad smile to Becky's lips. "You're right. Don't worry Penarra, I'll figure out how to get us out of here. I'm sure you've been very brave so far but you have to be patient a while longer, okay?"

"I shall. I have faith you will find a way, Lady. The Divine is watching over us. Would you like to know something?"

"Sure. What is it?"

"I wish to be a diplomat and scholar like you someday. Papa says I can, with much studying and training."

No one's ever looked up to her before, it's a rather daunting thought. Good thing Penarra can't see her blushing. "I have no doubt you can do anything you put your mind to, sweet. But thanks."

There has to be a way to escape this place, so a little girl can fulfill her dreams.

* * *

Half an hour later the door panel abruptly turns clear and slides back. Becky quickly gets to her feet as Norris steps inside followed by a Jaffa with pale skin, hazel eyes and hair under a metal skullcap.

Behind the guard two servants scoot nervously around them, wearing black hoods and cowls. One places two buckets in a corner- waste disposal and (hopefully drinkable) water- while the other sets down a shallow wooden bowl of food and empty metal cup.

He turns his head just so, giving her a brief yet deliberate wink. Her breath catches at disturbingly familiar features and velvet-brown eyes, so much like-

No. No way. Impossible. A genetic coincidence, surely. She steals a second glance to confirm but the servants have already left the room.

Norris casts a disparaging eye over her, lip curling in disdain. "Grahme. Heard you're making a name for yourself."

"So are you. Lackey for a parasite, and traitor to your own kind to boot. If you think you can intimidate me this way you've got another thought coming."

He glares at her. "Shut up, brat, or-"

"Or what? You're gonna make me?" She straightens her spine, crossing her arms over her chest. "You're nothing but a pathetic bully, you know that? Ever since you thought I was just one of those puny civilians you could intimidate under the Mountain. Got news for you, buster- I'm a lot stronger than that, and I always will be!"

Becky's surprised at the words coming out of her own mouth, with more anger than she's ever believed herself capable of possessing. But hey, after the day she's had she's entitled to vent.

"Shut up!" He charges forward and slams her hard against the wall, one hand on her throat. "This is all your fault. I was exiled to Gamma Base because of you. Denied promotion every time because of you. Rejected for the Atlantis Expedition because of you. You've thwarted me at every turn and now I'm getting my revenge on you and everything the SGC stands for. The hell I've gone through to get here is nothing compared to how I'm gonna make New Earth and Atlantis suffer."

She claws at his fingers as they tighten around her windpipe, gasping for breath. Dammit, she can't let him beat her. Not now.

Even as her vision begins to darken around the edges she manages to drive a knee sharply into his groin and shove him away with all her might. He staggers but remains on his feet, pulling a knife out of a sheath with murder in his eyes. "You little brat, I oughta-"

The guard promptly knocks the knife aside with the end of his staff weapon. "Lord Ba'al has ordered she is not to be harmed! Any disobedience will result in immediate punishment." She fancies she sees amusement in the alien eyes, practically daring him to defy.

"Fine, whatever." Norris fixes both the Jaffa and herself with baleful stares. "You're damn lucky the snake's taken a fancy to you, brat. But don't get too comfortable. If I have anything to say about it you'll be tortured and left to rot in this cell without the sarcophagus to fix you." He spins on his heel and leaves, the guard following after a curious look in her direction.

The door closes and opaques once more. Becky groans as she slumps on the cot, ruefully rubbing her neck. She'd forgotten Norris had a temper, he's a lot closer to the edge than she thought. If it wasn't for the guard it would've been the end for sure, never mind what Ba'al wants from her.

"Lady Rebecca? Are you all right? Did he hurt you?"

"I'm fine, Penarra." Sounds just like her and Mac on many an adventure, when he was the one in harm's way and she worried about him. "Why don't you eat and get some rest? We'll talk later."

"All right. Sleep well."

"You too."

Surprising how she isn't in much of a panic mode yet, all things considered. Instead she's strangely calm.

She eats then stretches out on the cot, though sleep proves elusive for all the wheels spinning in her head.

Of all the things her uncles have taught her the most important is to never give up without a fight. There's always another way to solve a problem, it's just a matter of paying attention and keeping her options open. It's time to take stock, and go through everything she's learned so far.

The window's made of the same material as the door panel, and just as energized. Standing on tiptoe she can make out maybe hundreds of Jaffa in their encampment, death gliders soaring over the high arch of the Gate barely visible at the opposite end of the landing field.

So, first priority is to find a sympathetic and knowledgeable ally to disable the doors and smuggle them out of the fortress, maybe the disturbingly familiar guy who winked at her earlier. Though even if they leave the fortress they'll have to sneak through the camp with no one the wiser.

Worst case scenario, they're captured even before reaching the Gate. Penarra killed outright if deemed expendable, and she'd wind up in that damned sarcophagus again, resurrected for more nasty torture.

No way will that happen if Becky can help it. She's not gonna give up at a time like this. She promised Barranco she'd find his daughter and bring her back home, and she believes in keeping her word.

She just has to find the right opportunity.

_...I have promises to keep/And miles to go before I sleep... _From a poem by Robert Frost, memorized in middle school English class.

She has to have faith and hold on, that's all there is to it.

Help is on the way. It has to be.

* * *

The second hand on her watch ticks on 2750 New Earth Standard Time. Hard to believe it's only been half a day since she got here.

Becky shifts uncomfortably on the narrow cot and wraps the blanket even tighter around her. She hates being cold. On nights like this back home she'd be buried under homemade quilts and blankets, fire burning cheerfully in the cast-iron stove and a very solid and warm archaeologist spooning behind her, holding her close to his chest, head tucked next to hers and breathing softly against her neck. Surrounding and supporting her with his strength, his tenderness, his love.

God, she really misses Daniel.

If- no, _ when_\- she gets out of here she'll insist they marry right away and to hell with Jack's betting pools. Eloping to Atlantis sounds better and better all the time.

A soft beeping from the hallway catches her attention. The panel clears and slides open.

Becky frowns. Way too late for a social call. Probably Norris coming in for a drunken ambush on her person, eager to finish what he started years ago.

Boy is he in for a surprise. She isn't the same girl from that New Year's Eve under the Mountain, not by a long shot.

Deliberately feigning sleep she keeps her eyes closed. When she senses he's close she opens her eyes and launches herself off the cot, pinning the intruder to the floor with the weight of her body, one hand at his throat, the other ready to strike. "Alright, who are you? What are you doing here?"

Velvet brown eyes twinkle with wry amusement. "Nice moves, kiddo. You've been learning since last I saw ya."

Unbelievable. The same soft Midwest drawl, the uncanny resemblance to her uncles.

Okay, maybe thirty years' difference, give or take. But still.

She swallows hard and quickly backs away, mouth going dry. Half convinced some sort of hallucinogen had been slipped into her food earlier. Heart pounding faster as panic rises from within, breath coming out in quick, ragged bursts.

"Easy now, Beck. Take a deep breath. That's right." He scoots closer, hands lightly rubbing her shoulders.

She takes several. "Are you a clone or something?" she blurts out. Not the most outrageous possibility, considering the universe they live in.

He shrugs. "Sorta. It's complicated. Let's get comfy first, okay? This body may be in better shape but the floor's still pretty hard to sit on." He settles himself cross-legged on the cot, much more nimble than his older self (or selves, or whatever). "So how you doin', kiddo? Enjoying the famous Goa'uld hospitality yet?"

"I've had better days." Very dry. "So what happened to you, and why do you look so much younger?"

"I'm gettin' to it. Ever heard of an Asgard scientist named Loki?"

"Actually, yeah. When Baldur brought me to the bridge of the _Sleipnir_ I saw him talking with Thor. He wanted to take samples of you guys while you were still unconscious, but Thor shot him down."

"Good memory. Thing is, Loki was so desperate to perfect his cloning research he'd do anything to get results no matter how unethical." As he speaks his fingers drum restlessly on the edge of the cot and she relaxes, recognizing a fidgeting trait common to both uncles. "So while you were busy Witnessing he sneaked into our quarters and took genetic samples and brain scans. Only when it came to the actual reproduction he goofed big time, 'cause instead of creating two identical clones with their own respective memories he wound up with one clone possessing both and stuck at fifteen with a limited lifespan to boot, thanks to Thor putting a marker in Jack's DNA to prevent future tampering."

"Sounds awful."

An offhanded shrug. "No picnic, lemme tell ya. Loki would've killed me on the spot but Thor came to the rescue, making sure my DNA was stabilized so I could age normally. Getting the memories sorted took a while longer since I basically had two different sets of instincts competing with each other."

"I just bet. Like when Jack wants to use a gun and Mac's dead set against it," Becky muses. "Must've felt like you were going nuts for a while."

"You don't know the half of it. Fortunately Baldur helped me get squared away."

She frowns. "Baldur? I thought he was just a linguist."

"That's his cover, though he is interested in languages. He enjoys visiting with you and Daniel to talk shop and storytelling, by the way. But he's actually an agent for the High Council. We partner up from time to time."

Her brow furrows. "So I take it you work for them too."

He spreads his hands wide in a helpless, what-can-you-do gesture. "Yeah. Thor agreed my presence on New Earth would freak everyone out so he offered me a job, kinda like what Mac did for the Phoenix Foundation. He even reminds me of Pete sometimes, ya know?"

Becky snickers at the image, despite a lingering resentment of Thor for her post-Witnessing trauma. "So you're a cosmic troubleshooter. Makes sense, but it doesn't explain what you're doing here."

"I'm undercover. Norris has been on our radar ever since he escaped from Gamma Base. Far as we can tell he Gate-wandered randomly from one world to another for a while before arriving in Ba'al's domain. Killed the previous advisor in cold blood to get the job, which tickled the snake so much he chose Norris as a replacement."

"Good thing you haven't been recognized yet."

He shrugs. "As a lowly kitchen slave I'm beneath notice. The obscurity's pretty nice for a change."

"I just bet. So what do I call you? Can't be Jack or Mac, too confusing."

"I'm goin' by James MacNeill these days, Jack's middle name and a combination of both last names." He grins. "You can call me Jimmy. Baldur's filled me in on what you've been up to lately. Real proud of you. Congrats on getting engaged to Danny, by the way. 'Bout time the Spacemonkey settled down. I'm sure you can keep him in line."

She chuckles even as a flush tints her cheeks. "Thanks. I wish you could attend the wedding."

"Me too. But first things first. Norris may have wanted you for revenge purposes but Ba'al's got a notion to use you as bait for SG-1."

"To be honest I'm more worried about Penarra than myself. There's no reason for her to be kept as leverage anymore. Plus I promised her father I'd find her and get her home safe."

"I hear ya. There's a plan in the works to get you both out before that happens."

She frowns slightly. "Surely not all by yourself?"

"Nah, I know people." He unfolds his legs and hops off the cot. "Gotta split. You kids sit tight, okay?"

"You bet. Thanks for having our backs."

He grins, bending to plant a gentle kiss on her forehead. "My pleasure. Don't worry about a thing, you'll be tying the knot with Danny before you know it. I'll keep in touch. Be brave, kiddo." He winks at her from the doorway before pulling the hood back over his head and stepping outside.

She can't help but chuckle as she stretches out on the cot. Mac and Jack are good at lifting her spirits when she needs it the most, and Jimmy's no exception.

For all the weirdness she's seen so far she never once expected a clone of her uncles, armed with the experiences and memories of both. The galaxy will never be the same.

It's a strangely comforting thought.

* * *

_ I must not fear. Fear is the mind-killer. Fear is the little death that brings total obliteration. I will face my fear... _

The Litany Against Fear from Frank Herbert's _ Dune _ series echoes in Becky's mind as the guards lead her through the fortress, prepared to endure aother round of torture. To her surprise instead of an interrogation chamber they arrive at a large octagonal room under a dome of clear glass, atypical for Goa'uld architecture.

Ba'al is waiting for her in the center, next to a low table with black cushions embroidered in gold, surrounded by plants in huge ornate pots. Her flesh crawls as his dark gaze travels up and down her body. "Good morning, Dr. Grahme."

"Where's Norris?" she demands.

"Given his...homicidal tendencies towards you of late I thought our conversation ought to continue privately, in more congenial surroundings. Join me?" As they sit servants set down a gold vessel of wine with matching goblets and platters holding neat slices of bread, dates and fruit. Becky's mouth waters but she keeps her hands firmly in her lap.

He smirks, as if enjoying some private joke. "Not lethal, I assure you. If I wanted you poisoned I would have already done so." He's putting on a genial front but the undercurrent of hostility turns her stomach.

"You'll understand if I don't trust you. Why am I here?" Sarcasm and blunt honesty are particularly effective tactics against the Goa'uld, according to Jack's lessons (aka 1001 Ways to Keep Snakes from Messing with Your Head).

The doubled voice lends an eerie quality to his laugh. He makes a show of pouring his own wine and tasting it, his tongue darting out to playfully lap at a drop. "Because you intrigue me. You are unlike any other Tau'ri I have encountered. I admit to being curious about you for a long time, ever since I visited your world to chat about Camulus." He leans back to rest on his elbows among the cushions, tilting his head just so, the silk shirt gaping open to reveal a nicely muscled chest with dark curling hair.

She quickly hides a shudder. His heavy-handed attempt at seduction is making her lose her appetite really fast. "Believe me, I'm not your type. I'm ordinary. There's nothing special about me." Falling back on excuses long since disproved, thanks to Daniel and Huy-Braesealis.

"Oh come now, Dr. Grahme. Such false modesty is so unbecoming for you. I know you have a hearty spirit, not to be easily overcome. And much stronger than your delicate frame implies. You might even be worthy enough to be host for my queen someday."

She's had enough. "Absolutely not! I'll never be host for a parasite like you. I'd rather die permanently first."

Ba'al suddenly looms over her, eyes blazing yellow. It's all she can do not to cry out at the bruising strength of his grip on her upper arms as he lifts her until her feet dangle in mid-air. "Do not presume to defy me, Tau'ri! I can kill you anytime I choose, remember that. This is your only warning."

"My lord?" A blonde woman steps forward, one of his lo'taurs judging by the elegance of her clothes. "Your First Prime craves your attention on a matter of strategy. Most urgent."

"Oh, very well." Becky abruptly lands on the cushions in an ungainly heap and he smirks at her discomfiture. "You are fortunate I choose to be lenient today, if for no other reason than your attempts at defiance amuse me." He gestures to the lo'taur and a male servant nearby with brown hair and green eyes. "Escort Dr. Grahme back to her cell, and take the food with you. She must keep up her strength for the next time we resume our conversation."

"Yes, my lord." The lo'taur gently grasps her elbow and steers her out of the room, the male servant following with the platters. "Calm yourself," she advises once they're well past the guards. "You are fortunate this time. He is dangerous when provoked. Many have done so and died most gruesomely for their insolence."

Becky swallows, belatedly realizing she dodged a bullet back there. "Thanks for the advice. I'll try to keep it in mind."

"Be sure you do," the male servant admonishes in a doubled voice. "Your very life is in danger the longer you remain here."

Her eyes slide over to him. "You're Tok'ra."

He glances furtively to either side. "Yes. I am Kanan, my host is Darien. This is Shallan," indicating the lo'taur. "We are aware of your situation, and also that of the Tarrakan girl. We are assisting the Asgard operative with whom you have already spoken in your escape, though we must take precautions to preserve our covers."

"Understood. Your secret is safe with me."

Penarra smiles at Becky and waves when they arrive at the cells. It's a little strange to see her upbeat in spite of everything, but also comforting. "I'd like her to have one of these platters. If it's safe, that is."

Shallan smiles faintly, her eyes holding an amused glint. "Of course. No poison has been added to the food." She taps at both keypads and the doors slide open. "However," she adds in a more serious tone, "you were right not to touch the wine."

A shiver runs down Becky's spine at the implications.

While Shallan visits with Penarra, Kanan ushers Becky into her cell. "You will be contacted with appropriate instruction when the time is right. Until then you must be patient."

"Of course."

The host's head bobs briefly and Darien regains control for the moment, his cheerful personality a stark contrast to the Tok'ra's more solemn mien. "Kanan's a funny old snake sometimes but he means well. For now, be at peace. As you Tau'ri say, we have your back." He tosses her a cheeky smile and wink as he hands over the platter.

"I appreciate it. Thank you for your help- all three of you."

"Merely doing our duty, Dr. Grahme. Until next time." He winks again and leaves, joining Shallan outside.

"Lady Rebecca?" Penarra's voice wafts through the grille. "My thanks for the food."

"You're welcome. Did Shallan tell you what's going on?"

"She has. I shall be patient."

"Good girl." Becky picks up the platter, feeling rather famished herself all of a sudden.

Nice to know they're not alone.

* * *

For the next day and a half there's not much to do except wait. Surprisingly neither Ba'al nor Norris summon her for any conversations or interrogations, so in between chats with Penarra there's plenty of time for introspection.

This isn't Becky's first rodeo, as her uncles might say.

She lifts a cuff of her jacket, rubbing along the thin white line encircling her wrist with rueful amusement, thinking of the matching ones on the other wrist and both ankles. Physical reminders of being held in chains by the assassin Murdoc, just to serve as bait in a trap for Uncle Mac. She remembers Daniel's curiosity over the marks one night, how reverently he touched and kissed each one after she recounted her ordeal.

While working for the DXS and Phoenix Foundation Mac collected his share of other enemies as well. It seemed hardly a fortnight passed back during his guardianship in which she wasn't either nabbed by bad guys to serve as leverage or involved in one caper or another thanks to Jack Dalton's schemes or Penny Parker's mishaps.

Not a normal life for a teenager by any stretch, but on balance it wasn't all bad either. She and Mac had fun together, and their domestic adventures added zest to life deprived of a mother, a father, an older brother.

Thanks to his insistence in being prepared she now knows how to take the unexpected in stride and think her way out of almost any situation along with lessons in basic self-defense, tradecraft and survival. All of which have come in handy over the years working for the SGC.

Considering everything that's happened so far- including this- she wouldn't change a thing.

* * *

A gentle hand lands on her shoulder, nudging her awake. "Hey, sleepyhead. Time to wake up."

Becky turns over onto her back, yawning. "Aw c'mon, Unc. Five more minutes, okay?"

"Sorry, kiddo. No can do." A bundle of clothes drops into her lap. "Put these on. You gotta be in disguise for a while."

"What about Penarra?"

"Shallan's helping her change. C'mon now, get a move on."

She pulls the rough homespun dress over her head. The air is bitterly cold, so she leaves her black t-shirt and trousers on as an extra layer underneath. Thankfully the field jacket's lightweight enough to fold up small and tuck into one of the capacious pockets of the accompanying cloak, and the dress long enough to cover her boots.

She stretches her arms out, does a little twirl. "How do I look?"

"Gorgeous. A regular fashion plate." He tenderly tucks stray locks of auburn hair further under the black hood, deep enough to shield her glasses from casual glance.

On impulse Becky wraps her arms around him in a hug. "I can't thank you enough for being here. If you need anything in return- anything at all- let me know through Baldur. You'll always be part of the family as far as I'm concerned."

He returns the embrace, kissing the top of her head. "Right back atcha, princess." She flushes a little at the old endearment, one she hasn't heard in years.

In the hallway Penarra's also wearing homespun, a kerchief concealing the glossy black hair. Her gray eyes are bright with anticipation. "Are we truly going home?"

"We are. I'm sure your Papa will be just as proud as I am of how brave and patient you've been."

A solemn nod. "I am brave because of your example, Lady Rebecca. You have my thanks."

"You're welcome, sweet," she murmurs in return, warmed by the compliment.

Shallan clears her throat. "It is time to leave. You must be on your way before the sun rises."

In the kitchens Kanan is already waiting by the outer doors leading to a courtyard for loading and unloading. Becky frowns at the Jaffa standing beside him with pale skin, hazel eyes and hair under a metal skullcap, certain she's seen him somewhere before.

"This is Kor'tel," Kanan says. "He is an agent of the Free Jaffa and our secret ally in the guards. He will accompany us to the Gate."

The Jaffa bows his head in greeting. "I am a low-ranking orderly on the First Prime's staff," he explains. "But I also have acted as escort before, along with other duties. It makes things...convenient."

"Enough idle talk," Kanan says impatiently. "Our timing is fortunate. These visits to the market world occur only once a moon-cycle." He indicates a wagon parked just outside already hitched up with two impatient equines, its back to the door. More wagons are lining up in the courtyard. "Penarra, you will conceal yourself inside. They may halt us for inspections the closer we get to the _chappa'ai_, so you must be very quiet and still."

She nods soberly, her small face serious. "I shall. I am very good at playing hidden-and-seeking at home."

"That is good. Dr. Grahme, you will sit beside James in the front seat. Kor'tel and I will be walking alongside as escorts. Be sure to keep the hood over your face at all times, and perhaps longer. There will be guards accompanying us but once we pass through they can be evaded."

Becky bites her lip. It's a hell of a risk they're taking on behalf of her and Penarra. The penalty if caught could very well be their certain death.

Jimmy offers a reassuring smile. "Hey, piece of cake. Just keep your head down and you'll get through this all right."

"I'd still feel better if I had a zat or something," she mutters.

"That's my girl." He produces one from under his cloak and hands it to her. "Okay campers, let's move out."

Penarra climbs in the back of the wagon, settling herself among the cloth sacks and barrels. Becky has barely enough time to bid Shallan thanks and farewell before Jimmy's helping her onto the seat, sitting beside her with ease. She really envies his longer legs.

He flashes her a sideways grin as if he knows what she's thinking, flicking the reins at the equines. "Just like in the movies, huh? Cheer up, kiddo. You'll be home in no time."

The wagon lurches forward, joining the others lumbering through the open gate of the fortress.

* * *

Becky hides a yawn behind her hand as the convoy jolts and creaks its way in the direction of the Gate. Never a morning person but she has to admit the early dawn hour's pretty, with three moons setting behind the mountain range one by one and the sky opposite gradually shading from dark blue to violet with the rising sun.

From the corners of her eyes she watches the Jaffa camp slowly come to life after hours spent in _kel'no'reem_. Some bend over raised fire pits for cooking and stir pots, a few early risers already scooping up gruel from bowls with wooden spoons and passing around a skin of what could be wine or beer or whatever, squirting it directly into their mouths.

Jack's been a bad influence on Teal'c when it comes to doughnuts and _ klah _in the mornings, she thinks with a smile. Next time she sees him she ought to ask what constitutes a traditional Jaffa breakfast.

Her stomach gives a quick grumble and she sets her mouth in a thin line. She'll eat when she gets back to New Earth, anyway. Not long now.

Kor'tel frowns and stares fixedly at nothing as a troop of warrior youths march by in formation. "Are you all right?" Becky asks him softly when they're well gone.

"I am not," he admits. "It saddens me to see them at so young an age, convinced they are following a living god. Blindly devoted to death and destruction in his name when they should be free to live their own lives. Such an utter waste-" His jaw clenches and he says no more.

She can only nod, thinking of Teal'c and Rya'c.

The level of activity increases as they slowly lumber their way through the encampment. Kor'tel nods casually here and there as they pass by a grouping of large tents sporting Ba'al's symbol in gold on black banners, obviously a command center for the First Prime and his staff. None make an effort to stop them, a fortunate sign the convoy's a common enough sight that no one pays close attention.

Eventually they come to exercise fields where warriors perform weapon drills and calisthenics, followed by landing pads for air- and spacecraft, much like the back at the SGC. There are even a couple massive Ha'taks squatting in the middle distance. All very impressive, but Becky can only breathe a sigh of relief once the welcome circle of the Gate looms into view at the far end of the field.

"Home, sweet home, sweet home," Jimmy murmurs. "Just a wormhole or two away for you guys." He looks oddly wistful.

"Sure you don't want to come back with me? I don't think the guys will freak out as much as you think. And I'd love you to see New Earth sometime."

He shakes his head. "Nah, my calendar's pretty full these days. Ya know, toppling a few gods, kicking some Gou'uld butt. That sorta thing. Sure appreciate the offer, though."

Finally the convoy comes to a halt, a safe distance from the Gate. A small sentry patrol stands by, reminding Becky of the SFs on Gateroom watch duty. Probably serve the same function.

Kor'tel and the other escorts stride ahead for a brief conversation with the patrol leader, who heads for the DHD. He punches in seven symbols and presses the central red crystal. Her heart speeds up a little at the familiar locking of chevrons and the _kawoosh_ of activation.

The other equines must be used to it as they don't react but their set nervously shuffles and stamps their legs a bit. "Whoa, easy now," Jimmy mutters under his breath, giving a subtle tug on the reins.

Before rolling into the event horizon each wagon is stopped for a cursory inspection. Kor'tel comes back with two sentries who give theirs a quick once-over.

A small _achoo_ comes from the back of the wagon. One sentry lifts a speculative eyebrow, just like Teal'c.

Jimmy makes a show of blowing and wiping his nose on his cloak. "Allergies, sorry."

A second sneeze, louder this time. The sentries glance at each other and head towards the back of the wagon.

Becky swallows and closes her eyes, hoping they don't find Penarra.

Then something sets off the already unsettled equines, who squeal and rear up in an effort to shake off their harness, so much the wagon tilts completely to the left. They slide off the seat and hit the ground, a little stunned. Penarra shrieks as she rolls out of the back along with the barrels. Kanan and Kor'tel pull all three out of the wreckage and release the equines, who gallop away from the active Gate as fast as they can.

Energy blasts smash into the wagon, splinters flying. The three agents return fire with their zats and staff weapons as Becky shields Penarra from the worst of it, huddling together behind the largest piece for protection.

"Reinforcements are fast approaching," Kanan says, crouching nearby. "We will soon be outnumbered."

She sets her mouth in a thin line. "Then you and Kor'tel need to get Penarra out of here. She'll be safe on New Earth while they fetch her father at Tarraka."

"On our honor we will," Kor'tel says, saluting her with fist to chest. "Your sacrifice will be remembered."

"Thanks, but I don't intend to die. I'm getting married soon, after all." A crooked smile. "But tell my uncle the General he better get here as soon as possible or I'll throttle him." She risks a look above the wagon at their attackers. "Go now, the Gate won't stay open much longer. We'll provide cover."

He nods and turns to Kanan who takes Penarra's hand as they run. She glances back at Becky and mouths _ Farewell _ before they disappear through the blue-white shimmer.

Jimmy flashes her a grin, snarky even in the midst of danger. "Just you and me, huh kiddo?"

"No, you'd better get out of here too. It's me they want, after all."

He gapes at her as if she's nuts. She probably is. "The hell I will! I'm not leaving you in the hands of those snakes. They'll kill you for certain."

"No, they won't. You said it yourself- Ba'al still needs me alive as bait. Don't worry about me, I'll hold on as long as I can until I get rescued, by you or Jack. Go now," nodding towards the treeline not too far away. "Live to fight another day, as Teal'c would say."

He just stares at her with achingly familiar velvet brown eyes then holds her face in his hands, giving her a quick kiss on the forehead. "That's my girl. God, I'm so proud of you. See ya soon." He takes off at a run as she provides cover with her zat.

When he's safely hidden among the trees Becky risks a glance at the Gate just as the event horizon winks out, leaving only an empty circle. An energy blast slams into the ground next to her before she can move a muscle, sending a cloud of dust into the air and making her cough.

"_Tau'ri, kree shak!_"

Swallowing hard, she raises her hands in the air, turning around to find herself facing the business ends of many staff weapons.

She's alone.

Jimmy's nowhere in sight, hopefully safe in the forest.

Penarra's on her way to New Earth, accompanied by Kanan and Kor'tel. She's kept her word to Barranco.

That's something, at least.

* * *

Needless to say Ba'al is not a happy camper.

"You disappoint me, Dr. Grahme." He glares at her with arms crossed over his chest, severe in tight black leather and long coat. "I did not expect to be repaid for my hospitality in so disgraceful a fashion. Who helped you and the girl escape?"

"The Jabberwock and the Bandersnatch." Good old Lewis Carroll, confounding the Goa'uld every time. Only now the tactic earns her a jolt with the pain stick.

"Again. Who helped you?"

"Larry, Curly and Moe." More pain, leaving her gasping for breath.

"Again. Answer me!"

"R2D2 and 3CPO, who aren't the droids you're looking for." She braces for another strike.

"Enough." The priest steps back with a bow. Ba'al comes forward, slipping a ribbon device on his arm. "A great pity," he sighs, flexing the fingertips. "I would have enjoyed your body as a host for my mate. But like all Tau'ri you are proving far too troublesome. I see this must be done the hard way." The red crystal centered on his palm begins to glow and blazing pain shoots across every nerve of her body.

She screams.

* * *

By the end of the very long day Becky's right back where she started, though this time with no neighbor to help keep her spirits up. Thank goodness.

It isn't long until a spiteful Norris enters her cell without an accompanying guard, fury raging in his colorless eyes. "You damned well better cooperate next time, brat. I didn't throw my lot in with a snake for nothing."

She's far too exhausted even to muster an appropriate comeback. Her lack of response does nothing to curb his violence as he unleashes his frustration and anger on her vulnerable person.

There's a _kel'no'reem_ trick which Teal'c taught her a while back, separating mind from body just enough so it registers nothing of what's happening to her. She's never been as grateful for the long hours of meditation and instruction as she is now, even as she knows there's a price to pay in the form of nightmares somewhere down the road. If she survives, that is.

According to later hypnotic analysis guided by Heightmeyer there's no memory of sexual assault. Scant comfort, considering how thorough he is otherwise.

When awareness returns Becky finds herself alone, huddling in a fetal position on the floor, body aching from various cuts and bruises, uttering whimpers that even to her sound feeble and pitiful.

She slowly rolls onto her back, staring blankly at the ceiling. Wondering just how long it'll take before she cracks.

Better not be soon. She refuses to become a traitor just to save herself. There's no way she'll disgrace the settlement or the SGC if she can help it.

She'll do her extended family proud. She has to.

* * *

Soon she loses all track of time, an endless cycle making up her days.

Unrelenting torture and agony until her body gives out from either sheer pain or total exhaustion then waking to the cool white light of the sarcophagus.

Periods in the cell scarfing up scraps and slurping handfuls of fusty water from a bucket before snatches of restless sleep.

Roused to begin the cycle all over again. And so on and so forth.

Wash, rinse, repeat.

* * *

Ba'al and Norris take a perverse pleasure in asking questions and using the most painful means possible to extract information from her. Two of a kind, in the worst way.

One session she's pushed to the limit and gives in, though not the way they expect. Thanks to a sober lecture from Jack concerning interrogation and resistance techniques she's memorized a certain set of Gate addresses for just this kind of scenario, including one for a planet being consumed by a black hole and the rest progressively worse from there. As a last-minute inspiration she gives the glyph sequences in their corresponding Ancient syllables. Let 'em chew on that for a while.

Her uncle's a sly old fox. Thumbing one's nose at the enemy even when pushed to the edge has become a time-honored tradition at the SGC, and she's doing her best to uphold it.

An already livid Norris becomes so enraged by the trick and her apparent lack of fear (_I must not fear. Fear is the mind-killer..._) he drives the point of his knife deep into her right shoulder. Thankfully the joint's unharmed but it aches for a long time afterwards, with little jolts of agony constantly radiating from the wound in every direction.

Eventually they give up in disgust, sending her back to her cell without any attempt at healing just as Norris threatened. After a very long drink of water she realizes that not only is she dehydrated but also both overheated and chilled. The skin around the shoulder wound is an angry red, hot and dry to the touch.

Thanks to first aid training from Janet she knows what's in store with an infection- fever, first and foremost, followed by bad dreams and hallucinations. If it doesn't get treated with antibiotics in time the bacteria could get into the bloodstream and poison her.

As much as she's holding on to hope of rescue it's better to be realistic at this point. There's no way she can endure another round of torture even with that damned sarcophagus. It gives but also takes, in a very insidious fashion.

Preparing for the worst she keeps both water and waste buckets within reach of where she's sitting against the wall, facing the door in case someone tries to take her unawares. Sweating and gasping for breath she's more or less ready when the fever-dreams and hallucinations begin.

Sometimes she's able to think clearly and tend to herself as best she can. Other times when the fever rages she simply endures.

Holding on for dear life, to life itself.

* * *

In the meantime some interesting visitors stop by. One is very much real.

Shallan's face is pinched in sympathy, holding the very knife Norris threatened Becky with that first night and knocked out of his hands by (now that Becky recalls) Kor'tel. Apparently she'd spied it a corner when the guards discovered the cells were empty and kept the weapon out of sight until now.

"I am sorry," she whispers. "I cannot do anything more, I am risking my own life by doing this. But you may yet find this useful."

Becky just nods. She leaves the knife where Shallan placed it, hidden in the shadows.

It's real. It's solid. It's a guarantee of potential actions she can take if necessary.

It gives her hope, even when there's seemingly none to be had.

* * *

Others have got to be hallucinations, there's no other explanation.

"Join us," urges a beautiful brunette sitting to her right, in white buttoned blouse and ecru skirt. A soft lambent glow surrounds her, banishing the shadows to the far corners of the cell. "My name is Oma Desala. Let me help you Ascend before it is too late. You are part of us already, a portion of our genetic code woven into every cell of your body. You belong with us."

"This wasn't part of our agreement," warns the man to her left, dressed in a cream v-neck sweater and tan slacks. Exactly the same as the last time she saw him- an Ascended Daniel from an alternate universe, like her raven but with shorter hair and no glasses.

She waves a dismissive hand in his direction. "She is gravely injured. I merely offer her a chance to escape the physical chains of her body, as I did for you. How can she refuse?"

"Easy," Becky states, startling her. "There's a saying by a famous Old Earth philosopher, name of Groucho Marx: 'I refuse to join any club that would have me as a member'."

Daniel snorts, concealing an amused smirk behind a hand.

Desala frowns. "I do not understand. Why deny Ascension, particularly when your body cannot possibly endure more abuse? Do you not wish for eternal life, free from pain, all cares and worries forgotten?"

"Nope." Becky straightens up against the wall, keenly disappointed how much her shoulder aches even in her imagination. "I'm sure you mean well but I'm not interested. See, I know about you guys, I've done research in the databases of two cities you abandoned, Huy-Braesealis and Atlantis. For all your million-year history and impressive technological feats you Ancients are really a bunch of cowards. You ran from your home galaxy, you ran from the Milky Way and you ran from Pegasus. You even ran from the physical plane into a spiritual cul-de-sac you call Ascension and now you're trapped. You pretend to be these highfalutin know-it-alls with a policy of noninterference but in reality you just don't have the guts to either leave your plane altogether and find out what lies beyond or Descend, own up to your mistakes and fix the messes you left behind. In my book that's just plain cowardice."

Desala gapes in consternation during her speech. Daniel just beams at her.

For participating in a hallucination she's amazed herself by her own eloquence.

Despite the violent shivers wracking her body she gathers close the shreds of both her dignity and her tattered field jacket. "So thanks but no thanks. Go peddle your nonsense somewhere else, I'm not buying."

He chuckles. "Told you it wouldn't work. Now do you believe me?"

The Ancient sniffs in disapproval. "This proves nothing. Our conversation is far from over." She disappears in a flash of white light.

Becky frowns. "What conversation?"

His troubled expression quickly morphs into a smile. "Nothing you need to worry about." He comes over to crouch in front of her, his healing touch on her shoulder and a cooling kiss to her forehead easing her shivers, driving the pain away for a while. "Don't worry, help is on the way. Just hold on for a little while longer."

She bows her head, fiddling with the fraying hem of her trousers. "Don't know if I can."

"I do. It's not your time yet. Trust me, everything's gonna be just fine." He straightens. "I have to go now. I really wish I could do more."

"Will I ever see you again?"

His smile's sweet, warm and a little wistful. "Someday, when the time is right. Be brave, Becky. Take care." He disappears in a bright flash of light, leaving her more than a little perplexed.

At the end of the Battle of Gateway he saved both her and her raven by defeating Anubis and healing their wounds. Surely this time he must be a figment of her imagination along with that Ancient Ascended woman, otherwise he would've rescued her.

Right?

* * *

And some could honestly be either, not that she's in a position to distinguish fantasy from reality anymore.

"Oh, princess," Jimmy whispers, cradling her in his arms like she was a little girl again. "I'm so sorry I couldn't get here sooner. I've been hiding in the woods and evading Jaffa patrols until I had the chance to sneak inside." He passes a gentle hand over her injuries and frowns. "What have they done to you? I shouldn't have left you alone. This is all my fault."

_Not your fault. You would've died if you stayed_. She doesn't think she said it out loud but he smiles sadly, as if she did and he knows better.

She tries to put on a brave face but moving hurts so damn much and her fragile pretense just shatters. He holds her carefully as she whimpers in pain and cries more than she ever dreamed possible, whispering words of comfort and silly songs from her childhood, meant to soothe and cheer. Bathes her feverish brow with cool water as he tells her how proud he is of her, how much joy she brings into the lives of everyone who loves her. Scoops her broken glasses off the floor and tucks them in one of her pockets. Lets her sleep in his arms, his presence and steady heartbeat keeping the more frightening visions away.

When she wakes again she's lucid but alone, the fever gone, a scrap of damp green fabric torn from her jacket near the bucket. After trying to puzzle it out she decides she must've done it herself and made up the rest.

She honestly doesn't know how much more she can take. She's at the end of her rope as it is.

Yet even as she sinks into despair two words drift out of memory, a familiar phrase that has sustained her through her darkest hours and does so again now:

_Be brave._

* * *

Earth-shattering explosions, shouting and klaxons blaring in the encampment outside. Another detonation that shakes the fortress to the very foundations. Pounding footsteps in the hallway, shouts and the rattling of P90s and sizzling of energy weapons.

Becky jerks awake, realizing with mild surprise she's not dead after all. Either that or the afterlife is a very noisy place.

She vaguely figures she ought to do something but can only slump on the floor, broken in so many ways she doesn't know how she's going to be put together again.

Then voices right outside her door, so familiar it must be an auditory hallucination.

Shallan's, reluctantly: "She is in here. But I cannot tell you if she is alive or not."

Daniel's, hesitantly: "I...I think she is, Jack. We have a connection, I'd know if she weren't."

Jack's, resigned: "Only one way to be sure. Open it, already."

The filtered light from the hallway turns almost blinding as the panel clears and dark figures step inside.

She wearily raises her head and stares at them, blinking away spots. "Guys...?"

"Hey, Beck-" Jack's eyes widen and he stops short, so stunned by her appearance he's temporarily at a loss for words.

Daniel's the one who strides forward after shooting Jack a look that's almost accusatory. Kneeling at her side to enfold her in his arms. "It's okay, Becky, " he soothes. "I'm here. You're safe now."

"...I am?"

"Yeah, kiddo. You are." There's a brief moment of confusion seeing her uncle with age lines and silvered hair as he kneels beside them, keen gaze softening as he gently strokes her cheek. "Hang in there, we've got you."

They're gentle but her right arm's jostled anyway, sending sharp jolts of pain through her. She moans and Daniel takes a good long look at her, frowning. "Jack, she needs to see Janet right away. I'm contacting Baldur to beam us up." From a pocket in his tac vest he pulls out a milky-white stone with copper runes along the edge, an Asgard communication device.

"Wait a sec, Danny. Let's make sure the shield's down first." He reaches for his radio. "Carter? Becky's alive but she's hurt real bad. What's the status on you and Mac getting the shield down so we can beam the hell outta here?"

"That's good to hear, sir." The relief in Sam's voice can be heard even through the radio. "We're almost done, just need another minute."

"Peachy. Head to the rendezvous point soon as you finish."

"Copy that, sir. Carter out."

The radio chirps. "General? Mitchell here." Sounds of gunfire in the background. "We've got Ba'al and his guards pinned down but Norris escaped. He's headed your way."

"Copy that. Shield should be down directly. I'll deal with Norris. If you can kill Ba'al that's one less snake to worry about but if you can't just get to the rendezvous point as soon as possible. Everything else in place?"

"Everything's ready, sir. We're on our way. Mitchell out."

Another chirp. "Jack? It's Mac. Shield's down."

"Terrific. You and Carter get your butts outta there, we'll blow the place up after we're aboard the ship."

"Gotcha. See you soon."

Norris barges into the room, knife drawn, filled with a burning rage at having his revenge thwarted. He ignores Jack and shoves a surprised Daniel out of the way to make a grab for her.

Summoning hidden reserves from god-knows-where she rolls out of the way and lunges past him to scoop up the half-forgotten blade left by Shallan in the corner. She staggers to her feet, standing to face her enemy.

Fury twists his features into something nightmarish. "This is all your fault, brat!" he roars. "I'll kill you now!"

"No." Her legs are unsteady and her shoulder hurts like hell but at the same time she feels oddly calm. Even energized, as if fresh out of the sarcophagus. "No more torture, no more pain. I'm not afraid of you."

He feints but she leaps on top of him, shoving him backwards to the floor. Pinning him down and raising the knife in her left hand to strike, the blade gleaming and ready to be driven through his black heart, ending this once and for all-

"Becky, no." Daniel's eyes are filled with compassion and love as his long, sensitive fingers gently wrap around her wrist.

"I...I have to. I must." She's almost choking on the words. Why is he stopping her? Can't he feel the incandescent rage burning through her right now, the all-consuming imperative to make the monster pay for her torment?

"You don't. Listen to me. You're better than him, you always have been." His free hand gently strokes her hair. "There's no need to do this. I know my jewel-bright, sweet-natured, kind-hearted hummingbird, and she's not a killer."

"But... But I gotta do this." Tears stream down her cheeks. "He hurt me, Daniel. So very much."

"I know, sweetheart, I know he did." His own eyes are moist now, beloved features suffused with shared anguish and for some reason a touch of regret. "He won't hurt you anymore."

"...Promise?" Her hand shakes with the effort of holding back the killing blow. God, she just wants this over and done with.

"I promise." She catches the meaningful look he shares with Jack, who nods grimly in return. "It's over, trust me. Let go of the knife, Becky. Please. For me."

His voice is soft and soothing, as always when he comforts her after a nightmare. She can't resist even if she wants to.

She lets go of the knife and allows him to pull her off Norris and into his arms. He holds her close, murmuring soft words of love, gently stroking her until the rage dissipates, leaving only pain and exhaustion behind.

Jack fixes Norris with a baleful glare. "Danny, get Becky outta here. I'll beam up in a bit, just got a little business to wrap up here first. Don't give Janet too hard a time or otherwise she'll break out the big needles."

Daniel rolls his eyes but nods. Keeping one arm around her he raises the stone above his head with the other and presses it, hard.

Flash of white light.

* * *

Becky blinks away the dancing spots before her eyes. Blinks again.

She's been on Asgard ships before- all smooth, sleek and curvilinear- but this one is completely unknown to her.

Panels of indirect lights interspersed with walls of blue and lavender with touches of bronze. Screens with diagrams of a teardrop-shaped ship and lines of runes. A curiously pointed viewport shows they're in high orbit around a planet. Chairs and consoles around the bridge appear to be in both human and Asgard proportions.

Baldur steps into view, inclining his head. "Greetings, Daniel. I am glad you have been successful in your mission. Are the others still on the planet?"

"Yeah, they should be heading for the rendezvous point and beaming up soon as they finish."

"Very well." The Asgard gives her a sort-of smile. "Becky, I am quite pleased to see you. Welcome aboard the _Rebecca Grahme_."

Her eyes widen. "It's named after me?"

"Of course. Supreme Commander Thor and the High Council deemed it fitting tribute for your service to our race as Witness. This is the fastest courier ship in the Asgard fleet. Normally it is attached to our exploratory and science vessel the _Daniel Jackson, _unless needed for special circumstances such as this."

"The _Daniel Jackson_?" An amused eyebrow in Daniel's direction. He only shrugs in reply, rubbing the back of his head as he does when embarrassed.

It's astonishing. The Asgard named a ship after her, just because she happened to be in the right place at the right time. Almost too much to take in on top of everything else.

The room starts spinning. "I...I think I need to lie down now..."

Daniel catches her, scooping her into his arms. "Take it easy, I've got you. Baldur, is Janet ready with the healing chamber?"

"I believe she is. Please follow me."

The sickbay is fully stocked with medical equipment for both Asgard and humans. Janet offers a warm, reassuring smile which quickly fades at the sight of her injuries. "Bring her over here, Daniel. I just need to check her vitals before she gets in there," waving at what looks like a human-sized version of an Asgard stasis chamber.

He sets Becky down on the treatment bed and she clutches at his arm before he can pull away. "I...I'm sorry about-"

"Sssh, it's okay. I understand." He carefully cups her cheek to avoid the bruises, bending to brush his lips against hers. "_Dorme ben, amor meu._"

Janet pulls on gloves, unwinding the stethoscope from around her neck. She conducts her exam with typical brisk efficiency but the look in her eyes is sympathetic when Becky yelps at the sharp jolt to her right shoulder. "Sorry about that. We'll get you fixed up."

She frowns at the healing chamber. "Is that like a sarcophagus?"

"Not at all," Baldur says. "Quite safe and non-addictive, I assure you. Built by my race but calibrated especially for humans." He moves to a console, tapping on keys. "You may enter when ready."

Janet helps her change out of the ruined field uniform and into a white shift. "There's something inside one of your pockets." She pulls out the broken glasses and frowns. "These are your only pair, aren't they?"

Becky can only nod in dismay. "Yeah. Unfortunately I need them to see better. Don't know how they're gonna be repaired, it's not like we have any opticians on New Earth."

"Do not fear for your eyesight," Baldur says. "I will put them in the matter converter." Janet hands them over and he cradles the pieces carefully in six-fingered hands. "They will be ready when you are healed. Even good as new, as you humans say."

She climbs in the chamber, smiling up at her aunt. "Thanks, Janet."

"You're welcome," kissing her on the forehead. "Feel better soon."

"Baldur?" He looks up from the console. "Thank you, too- for everything."

"You are most welcome. Sleep well, dear friend. Be at peace." He touches a control and the cover automatically slides shut.

An opaque, soporific mist fills the chamber. She takes deep breaths, gratefully surrendering to the blissful numbness slowly traveling up her body.

A long, hard road ahead before she can truly come to grips with everything, but hopefully she'll come out all the stronger on the other side.

In the meantime she's safe. Warm. Loved.

Becky closes her eyes and lets the healing darkness take her away.

* * *

_Note: Brief reference to S2 E15, "A Matter of Time"_


	27. Deliverance

Jack's day is turning out less than peachy.

Teresa Esposito- originally a civilian working at NORAD as a confidential clerk back at the Mountain and his miracle worker of a secretary- called in sick this morning, leaving him all alone to handle a rather daunting stack of files. One of these days he really oughta make that No Paperwork Ever decree official and be done with it.

He reaches for his mug and takes a sip, grimacing at the foul bitter taste. The airman from the temp pool may be a whiz at typing but can't seem to brew a proper pot of _klah_ to save his life.

A piece of cake would balance it out nicely but the kitchen oven designated for desserts broke down last night and Siler hasn't finished giving it a complete overhaul.

Now he's waiting for the next inconvenience to round out his day.

His mom Ellen always said trouble comes in threes, usually whenever he, Mac and Allison got entangled in mischief as kids. A faint smile crosses his lips at the memories.

The klaxon's strident in his ears. "Unscheduled offworld activation!"

Ah, there it is.

* * *

Activity in the Gateroom's at a fever pitch, techs hunched over their computers and armed SFs lining up on either side as reinforcements. Harriman's monitoring the situation, as always the unflappable Gatekeeper in the midst of chaos.

He acknowledges Jack's arrival with a respectful nod. "Sir, they've just locked onto chevron four. The iris remains closed and holding."

"Any idea who's knockin' on our door?"

"Not yet, sir."

Daniel jogs up to join them. "What's going on?"

"Your guess is as good as mine."

"Seven chevrons locked and encoded," Harriman states. "Incoming wormhole from Tarraka. Four IDCs confirmed, belonging to SG-9."

Daniel's brow furrows. "Shouldn't that be five? Becky's with them."

A shiver runs down Jack's spine. _ Trouble comes in threes. _ "Open the iris."

Razor-sharp, tightly-coiled panels unfurl and the Gateroom's washed in blue light. Presently Begay emerges, along with a medium-sized man in ornate robes with dusky skin and glossy black hair. Goodwin, Holt, and Grogan bring up the rear.

No sign of Becky.

The event horizon winks out behind them.

Daniel sighs and closes his eyes, as if already expecting the worst and just bracing himself for confirmation.

Begay steps off the ramp and salutes crisply. "General."

Jack returns it. "Major. You're back early."

"I'm aware of that, sir. I wish I had better news to report." Behind him Holt discreetly clears his throat and he hastily smooths his stricken expression. "General, this is Master Barranco of the Tarrakan Weavers' Guild. Guildmaster, this is General-Governor Jack O'Neill. I believe you've already met Dr. Jackson."

The Tarrakan offers a nervous bow. "My Lords, I wish the circumstances were more fortuitous but I offer the greetings of my people to yours. As well as my own profound sorrow for what has happened to Lady Rebecca."

Jack rocks back on his heels, trying to curb his impatience. Diplomacy's never been his strong suit. "And that is...?"

Barranco swallows nervously at the armed SFs and says nothing more.

"All due respect sir," Begay says with a glance around the Gateroom. "It's better we continue this in private."

"Understood, Major. Let's head to the briefing room."

Okay, so the proverbial third shoe just dropped.

If the clench in his gut's anything to go by it's gonna be a doozy.

* * *

Daniel listens to Begay's report and Barranco's halting narrative with a familiar sinking sensation in the pit of his stomach. The bottom of his world dropping steadily from sight, his worst nightmare coming true.

Begay's team is admirably calm and professional. Only the faint consternation in their eyes betray their shared concern for Becky's well-being.

The Tarrakan is more visibly shaken, keeping his eyes downcast and fidgeting with a necklace of blue beads in his hands.

"Are you well, Guildmaster?" Daniel gently inquires. "Anything I can do to help?"

He flushes, tucking the necklace further into his robes. "My sorrow for the unseemly display of emotion, Lord Daniel. I fear much of the responsibility for the abduction of Lady Rebecca rests on me."

"You are not at fault here. Rest assured we'll do everything in our power to find Penarra and bring her back to you. Any information you can provide in the meantime would be welcome."

He looks dubious. "Everything occurred with such haste, I do not think I can recall much."

"I'm sure you're aware of more than you realize. Every detail helps, such as the symbol the Jaffa guards wore on their foreheads."

Barranco blinks in surprise. "Why, yes. Perhaps a stylus and parchment can be procured?"

Daniel reaches into the mission folder on the table and tears off a section of paper, handing it over with a pencil from his shirt pocket. After examining it with clear interest Barranco sketches out a stylized horned design, one he recognizes with a rising sense of panic.

He swallows. "Um, Jack? I know who abducted Becky." Holding up the drawing for everyone to see.

"It is the symbol of Ba'al," Teal'c notes with a frown.

Jack sighs and closes his eyes. "Oh, well now that's just peachy."

* * *

Daniel sips at a cooling cup of _ klah _ and sets it on the long table in front of him amid the scattering of reports, printouts and star charts describing Ba'al's domain. Over the past few hours the debrief had turned into full-blown planning for a rescue mission.

Janet and Mac have been called in, as part of the previous conspiracy against Norris. Along with SG-9, SG-2 and Cameron Mitchell- newly transferred in from Alpha Base and currently unassigned to a team- have volunteered their services.

With Jack's usual disregard for protocol in favor of results the whole thing's become one large brainstorming session. Everyone adds their two cents into the mix regardless of rank or division, bouncing ideas back and forth.

Sam's standing to one side of an onscreen tactical display. "Just entering Ba'al's domain won't be easy. Every Gate-accessible planet has garrisons of Jaffa, and the ships in his fleet regularly patrol interstellar space. With intel from Norris they may already be expecting us no matter where we go, with orders to shoot on sight."

"So we can't just waltz in and ask to borrow a cup of sugar, huh?" Jack quips.

"Afraid not, sir."

"Rhetorical question, Carter."

"I knew that. Sir." Her smile is impish, mirroring his smirk.

Daniel rolls his eyes. Their banter's downright adorable in other circumstances but right now it's just this side of irritating. Becky could already be in grave danger as they speak.

Mac rubs his chin thoughtfully. "So how are we gonna sneak in and out anywhere with no one the wiser?"

"That's the 64,000 fav question alright," Jack agrees. "Any ideas?"

A flash of light and an Asgard with a light blue-gray complexion appears in front of them. "Greetings to all. Supreme Commander Thor and the High Council are aware of the situation with Dr. Grahme. On their behalf I wish to provide assistance."

Jack beams at him. "Hey, Baldur. Great timing. Got something fast and sneaky we can borrow?"

"In fact I do. A courier ship, named the _ Rebecca Grahme_." Eyebrows lift all around the table at the name. "It is the newest and swiftest in our fleet, outfitted with the latest updates in cloaking and beaming technology among other improvements."

Sam's eyes light up. "Would it be possible for you to share information with us?"

"Yes, Colonel. I have been authorized to meet with your scientists. Rest assured your physical requirements will be adequately met during the voyage."

"It is a pleasing symmetry, using a ship with such a name to effect her rescue," Teal'c muses.

Jack grins. "I think so too. Okay Baldur, you've got yourself a deal. When can we take it for a spin?"

"Whenever you are ready to leave. It has been in orbit above your planet for several days now."

Sam's brow furrows. "But we haven't picked up anything on our sensors, and we've recently increased their sensitivity to sniff out cloaked ships."

Baldur tilts his head to one side and gives a sort-of smile. "An excellent demonstration of the effectiveness of the new cloaking technology, is it not?"

Daniel can't shake the feeling there's another contingency they ought to be considering. If Becky were here she'd figure it out. Extrapolation and anticipation are her two strongest talents, coming up with scenarios no one else has even considered.

Such as the possibility they're being set up, he realizes with a start. It took both the _Astria_ and the drones as well as the _ Prometheus _ and F-302s to fend off the invasion by Anubis. With the three strongest ATA carriers gone there won't be anyone available to assume the chair in Huy-Braesealis.

The implications send a shiver down his spine. "Jack, with you and Mac offworld the settlement will be vulnerable to attack."

"You mean in case Ba'al's distracting us with a wild goose chase halfway across the galaxy and sends part of his fleet here?" Jack rubs his chin. "Good point. Guess we'll need to call in reinforcements while we're gone."

Sam bites her lip. "Sir, about that. Who's going to assume temporary command of the NEDF?"

"Way ahead of you kids for once. Got just the folks in mind." He clicks on his radio. "Choi? Fire up the DHD, I gotta make a long-distance call."

* * *

The next day a sleek and streamlined Jumper emerges through the event horizon, turning neatly and landing just outside the hangar. Reminiscent of the first expedition to Huy-Braesealis.

Jack utters a low whistle. "Sweet, huh? Makes our version pretty clunky in comparison."

"This is one of the ones they found with the city," Sam supplies. "Apparently they can be flown with the mind. Or at least you can, sir, since you have the ATA gene."

His eyes light up. "Huh. Maybe I can get lessons when this is over. C'mon campers, let's go and say hi."

A ramp in the rear of the ship lowers and six people emerge. Everyone except for the Pegasus natives in the familiar expedition uniforms, albeit a bit worse for wear in places.

Daniel finds himself relaxing a fraction. Just the people Becky would've requested.

McKay looks around, sniffing the air with disdain. "Exactly the same. I was expecting a few more improvements since we left."

Behind him Beckett mutters "Och, Rodney," and rolls his eyes.

Sam's smile is tight and faintly ironical. "You haven't changed either."

Sheppard and Lorne are grinning as they step forward and salute. "General, Dr. Weir sends her warmest regards and offers of assistance on behalf of Atlantis Colony."

Jack returns it. "Good to see you too, Colonel. Thanks for taking my call. Heard you're up to some interesting stuff at your end."

"I'm afraid mostly true, sir. I'd like to introduce Teyla Emmagan of Athos and Ronon Dex of Sateda, my teammates and Pegasus Ambassadors while we're here. Guys, this is General-Governor Jack O'Neill, Colonel Samantha Carter his second-in-command, and Teal'c of Chulak. Dr. Jackson you already know."

Teyla steps forward, sharing forehead touches with Daniel. "I do. A pleasure to see you again."

"You too. Welcome to New Earth and the Milky Way Galaxy."

"Thank you." She nods her respect to the others in a more formal greeting. "I am pleased to finally make your acquaintance though I wish the circumstances were better. I have heard many outstanding things about all of you from Elizabeth and Becky."

"Mostly true," Jack replies with a wink. "Heard the same about you and your people, ma'am."

Ronon just nods to everyone, his gaze lingering on Teal'c as they size each other up. "Not one of these Tau'ri, are you?"

"I am not. My race is Jaffa. Becky Grahme and Daniel Jackson have mentioned you are a formidable warrior against the Wraith."

A negligent shrug. "I do my best. We should compare fighting styles sometime."

"Indeed we should."

"C'mon guys," Jack warns, "much as a sparring match would be fun to watch can't it wait until after we get back from the mission?"

"As you wish, O'Neill."

Ronon shrugs. "Sure."

Beckett clears his throat. "General, there are a few doctors I'd like to chat with, both here and on the other bases. I'm hoping they can be convinced to move to Atlantis this time."

Sheppard quirks an eyebrow in surprise. "Elizabeth gave the go-ahead for your Healers' Network?"

"Aye. Having others on site would free up my workload considerably for the project. If they can be spared, that is."

"I see no harm in asking, doc," Jack says. "How about I treat you folks to some New Earth-style hospitality before we get down to business? Everyone's waiting over in the refectory."

Sheppard and Beckett fall in alongside Jack, Teyla and Lorne chat with Daniel, Sam and McKay already bickering, Teal'c and Ronon silently bringing up the rear.

"Any word on Becky yet, sir?" Sheppard queries Jack quietly.

"Nope. We're waiting on intel. You worried about her too?"

An offhanded shrug. "We all are. Permission to make a couple requests?"

"Fire ahead."

"I'm hoping someone might show Teyla and Ronon around. Lorne was here for a while with Alex but the rest of us were stationed at Alpha Base prior to Departure and we don't know the settlement all that well."

Sam pipes up with, "Sir, General Hammond's already entertaining Guildmaster Barranco and Baldur. Shouldn't be a problem to add two more."

Jack smirks at her. "You read my mind, Carter. Anything else, Colonel?"

"Yes, sir. I'd like Lorne to go with you on behalf of Atlantis. He's willing."

"I'll take that under advisement. But let's not dwell further on that, okay? Don't know about you guys but meet-and-greets always make me hungry."

* * *

Daniel has to admit Jack's a quiet genius when it comes to handling people. In his own peculiar fashion.

No further planning can be accomplished without hearing from the Tok'ra, so he's hosting a reception for the _de facto_ representatives from Tarraka, Pegasus and the Asgard in the refectory as an informal break. Sergeant White and his catering staff have laid out a remarkable selection of New Earth charcuterie on relatively short notice.

Breads and crackers from native and adapted grains are offered along with cheeses from native bovines and ovines, sliced prepared meats, citrus-free fruit and vegetables (slices of blue apple and purple cucumber are pretty tasty). Also some Pegasus touches here and there, thanks to Becky's Two Galaxies Trade initiative: tava bean hummus, spiceberry conserve, roasted tormack wedges sprinkled with pure Atlantis salt and toba root paste, delicately seasoned with powdered _ klah _ bark. Sheet cakes in three different flavors appease Jack's not-so-secret dessert addiction.

McKay's already on his second plate while holding court amid a gaggle of envious scientists. Sam looks on, rolling her eyes and ducking the fork he waves around to punctuate his words.

Jack's coaxed Hammond out of retirement to serve as temporary commander while he and Sam are offworld. It's obvious he rather enjoys playing diplomat while conversing with Barranco and Baldur.

Beckett sits at one table chatting with Janet, Mac and Jennifer Keller, on infirmary rotation from Beta and already a prospective Lantean judging by her keen interest.

Lorne, Mitchell, Ferretti and Sheppard swap anecdotes about flying alien spacecraft, liberally sprinkled with piloting terminology and jargon.

At another table Ronon and Teal'c consume great quantities of food, observing the goings on and providing occasional succinct commentaries on their respective teammates.

Daniel can only watch all this from the sidelines, picking at his food. Becky should be sitting beside him, taking a quiet pride in having some of their far-flung extended family back together under the same roof.

He keeps going back to the last time he saw her, suiting up in the locker room. Competent and cheerful, a playful twinkle in her eyes as she teases him. The sweet pliancy of her body in his arms, the softness of those full lips pressed against his.

"Daniel? Are you unwell?" Teyla's soft voice pulls him out of his thoughts.

He flushes a bit. "No, just distracted. Nothing new there, as Jack would say." The quip's half-hearted at best. "How long have you been sitting there?"

"Not long. Are you thinking about Becky?"

"...How can you tell?"

A wry smile, one probably learned from Sheppard. "You might say I pay attention. You do not need to tell me if it makes you uncomfortable, but I am willing to listen."

She's just as warm, accessible and perfectly composed as he remembers. He feels compelled to confide in her. "It's just that I've never felt someone's absence so keenly before, or at least not since-" He swallows and closes his eyes, unable to complete the sentence. _ Not since losing Sha're. _

She nods. "I understand completely. Twinned souls are rare even in my galaxy."

He blinks at her. "I beg your pardon?"

"My people believe the Ancestors are responsible for twining together the souls of kindred spirits, even to death and whatever lies beyond."

"We do have some kind of connection," he admits with a faint flush. They've never spoken of it in public before, lest others think they're nuts or under an alien influence. Yet Teyla seems to accept it.

"I thought as much. I could sense you and Becky have such a bond when you arrived in Atlantis." She places a gentle hand on his arm. "Do not fear for her. She is strong in both body and spirit. If you but reach within yourself you will find confirmation."

Her words are so earnest and confident that he does, despite his skepticism-

-And finding it, to his utter surprise.

His shoulders slump in relief. "She's alive. Thank god."

She smiles. "I am glad to hear it., Daniel."

Jack comes up to them, balancing three different cake slices on his plate with a blissful expression. "White and his kitchen staff are definitely getting promotions," he mumbles around a bite. "They've gone way above and beyond the call of duty here."

The sudden wailing of the klaxon startles everyone but him. "Unscheduled offworld activation!"

He smirks up at the PA. "Sounds like more guests for the party."

* * *

"It's the Tok'ra, sir," Walter confirms. "General Carter's IDC."

"Looks like he got the invite after all. Open the iris."

The wormhole establishes itself with the usual flair and settles. Presently Jacob emerges, followed by a younger man dressed in similar clothes and a Jaffa in armor and a metal skullcap covering his hair.

Sam grins at her father but the SFs raise their weapons at the symbol on the warrior's forehead.

Jacob holds out his hands in placation as they come down the ramp. "Stand down, he's on our side."

"You heard the General, guys." Jack saunters over, hands casually in pockets. "Howdy. You folks here for a late lunch? We got plenty of food."

"We're not here for a social call, Jack. This is Kanan and his host Darien," indicating the other Tok'ra who bows his head. "And Kor'tel is an agent of the Free Jaffa Nation."

Teal'c steps forward. "Indeed he is. Greetings, Kor'tel."

"Master Teal'c," saluting him, fist to chest.

"That title belongs to Master Bra'tac. I have not yet earned the honor," comes the mild admonishment.

Sam comes up to Jacob, giving him a hug. "Hi, Dad. Good to see you."

"Good to see you too, Sammy." His head dips briefly.

Selmak's looking through his eyes now as he turns to Jack. "General O'Neill, Kanan and Kor'tel had been assigned to spy on Ba'al. They have recently escaped his domain with an important delivery for you."

Jack quirks an eyebrow. "Really? We're not expecting any packages-" A little girl with dusky skin and glossy black hair emerges from behind Kor'tel. "Oh. Hello, there."

Barranco pushes his way past Gateroom personnel, gaping at the sight of his daughter. "Penarra?"

"Papa!" She hurries into her father's waiting arms. "Oh Papa, I missed you so much."

He scoops her up, holding her next to his heart, a tear trickling down his cheek. "I missed you as well, light of my life. I was so worried for you."

"As was I, for a while. But Lady Rebecca showed me how to be brave. Are we going home soon?"

"You bet, kiddo," Jack says. "We just need to make sure you're healthy first, okay? That way your dad won't have to worry."

She cocks her head, considering. A lot like Becky at that age, according to Mac. "All right."

"General O'Neill," Kanan says. "There is something you should know. Dr. Grahme denied herself a chance at freedom so we could bring Penarra here safely. She remains in grave danger."

Kor'tel nods. "She has the spirit of a warrior, though she walks the path of a scholar."

"Indeed," Teal'c concurs with a small, proud smile.

A dip of Kanan's head and his host Darien is now speaking, his features more animated. "General, she also has a message for you." Puzzlement creases his brow. "You had better get there as soon as possible or she will throttle you. Does that make sense?"

Jack's lips curl up in a fond smile, his eyes a little moist. "It does. That's my girl."

Daniel can't help his own faint smile, even as Kanan's words send a chill down his spine.

Exactly as he'd feared. Sometimes he hates being right.

There's a gentle tap on his shoulder. He turns to see Penarra regarding him curiously, with wide-set gray eyes identical to her father's. "Uh, hi."

"Hello. You are the pledged of Lady Rebecca, are you not? Are you going to have a binding ceremony soon?"

He blinks at her forthright question. "Um yeah, I sure hope so."

She smiles, snuggling against her father's shoulder. "Good. I hope there will be lots of cake. There always is at a binding ceremony."

Jack chuckles. "Smart girl. And speaking of cake, why don't we all get outta here? Looks like you folks could use some after your ordeal and I know where we got plenty."

* * *

Much later, after Penarra gets a clean bill of health by Janet and their new guests help themselves to food, the wormhole is activated for Tarraka.

"General O'Neill, Lord Daniel, you have my everlasting thanks," Barranco says. "Lady Rebecca has brought the light of my life back to me as promised and I am grateful. My government and myself are in your debt, and if there is any good or service we can provide in return do not hesitate to ask. From now on we are your staunchest allies."

"And the same to you, Guildmaster," Daniel replies with a bow. "We wish you peace, prosperity and every happiness."

Barranco bows in return. "I wish the same to you also. Good fortune in your search."

Penarra tugs on her father's robes and whispers in his ear. He nods approval and she steps forward to Daniel, flinging her arms around his legs. "Do not fret for Lady Rebecca. The Divine is watching over her. I have faith you will be together soon."

"Um, I hope so too. Thank you," giving an awkward pat to her head.

She releases him, smiles and takes her father's hand. He stares after them as they disappear through the event horizon, briefly wondering what it'd be like to have someone so precocious and perceptive for a daughter.

"Remind you of anyone we know, your lordship?" Jack says archly, grinning.

Daniel sighs, taking off his glasses to dab at his eyes. "Knock it off, Jack. It's just a courtesy title."

"Sure it is," clapping him on the back. "C'mon. Now that the gang's all here we can get back to work."

* * *

Thanks to Kanan and Kor'tel they now know Becky's being kept in a fortress on P2C-979, known locally as Sidon. It's a name Daniel recognizes from Old Earth as a city-state of the ancient civilization of Phoenicia.

Fortunately Ba'al is in residence along with a huge encampment of Jaffa, probably the majority of his standing army. Norris is there too, as an informal advisor.

Daniel smiles thinly. Good. They can rescue Becky and do away with both in one blow, if they're lucky.

Once they've hammered out a plan of action everything else falls into place.

Colonel Ellis volunteers the use of his newly-minted _ Apollo _ as a form of penance for Norris escaping from Gamma Base. The day before departure the enhanced cloaking and beaming technology is installed, tested and calibrated with the supervision of Sam, Baldur and Forseti, the ship's Asgard tech consultant. McKay pays close attention and kibitzes from the sidelines to the annoyance of all present, practically salivating at the prospect of applying the knowledge back in Pegasus.

The next morning everyone gathers in the SGC compound, mission participants and well-wishers alike.

As agreed the group's splitting into two Strike Forces: Daniel, Jack, Sam and Teal'c along with Mac, Janet, Mitchell and Lorne on the _Rebecca Grahme_ and Ferretti's SG-2 and Begay's SG-9 on the _ Apollo_, which is taking a separate route to avoid suspicion and waiting under cloak in orbit above the planet until the teams are needed.

"Glad to hear you guys are doing well," Jack says to Sheppard as they exchange salutes and shake hands. "Wouldn't mind paying a visit one of these days."

"You're welcome any time, sir. 'Lantis would love to make your acquaintance." His expression turns serious and he lowers his voice. "With all due respect, I wish I was going with you."

"Duly noted, Colonel. But I already made it clear why you need to stay on New Earth."

"Yes sir, you did. It's just that I think of her as a little sister and well-" He shrugs, rubbing the back of his neck. "Ah, you know what I mean."

Brown eyes soften slightly, the concerned uncle peeking through the facade of the seasoned general. "Yeah, I do. Just stick to your post, Sheppard. That's the best you can do for her right now."

"Copy that, sir."

Jack clears his throat and turns to Hammond, shaking his hand. "Thanks for agreeing to come out of retirement for this, George. I really appreciate it."

"My pleasure. Family is important, now more than ever. You need to be out there with the rest of your team. I'll be happy to hold down the fort while you're gone."

"That's a load off my mind. Sure I can't convince you to do my paperwork while you're at it?"

Hammond laughs heartily, clapping him on the shoulder. "You know, some things about the place I don't miss at all. Good luck and godspeed, Jack. Find your niece and bring her back home where she belongs."

"Yes, sir," throwing him a rakish salute. "We'll send ya a postcard along the way."

Daniel can't help a faint smile and neither can Sam. Just like old times.

Jack turns to Ferretti and Begay. "You kids ready for me to do the honors?"

"Ready and waiting, General. Just give the word," Ferretti says. Both teams salute.

He returns it and clicks on his radio. "O'Neill to _Apollo_. Strike Force B is ready to beam up."

"Copy that, sir. We'll meet you at the planet. _Apollo_ out." The teams disappear in a flash of light and he turns to his team.

"Ready, campers?" A collective nod. "O'Neill to Baldur. Strike Force A is ready to beam up."

"Acknowledged. You may activate your communication stones." Each member of the Strike Force has one loaned especially for the mission, milky-white with copper runes carved around the rim.

"Okay, folks. Here we go." Jack raises his and presses it. Daniel and the others follow suit.

A flash of white light and they're on the bridge, recognizably Asgard in style yet unlike any they've seen before. White indirect lighting interspersed with walls of blue and lavender shading to bronze with touches of copper here and there. The forward viewport- consisting of two sides curving gently towards each other- shows a stunning view of their adopted homeworld from orbit.

Daniel takes a moment to admire New Earth in all shades of its blue-green, burnt-orange, moss-green and blue-violet glory, turning in silent majesty beneath their feet. Two continents separated by huge oceans and several archipelagos, the northern half of the western continent featuring Settlement Valley with its distinct parenthetical mountain ranges on either side.

May not be much in the cosmic scheme of things, but it's worth protecting.

Baldur inclines his head. "Greetings to all. Welcome aboard the _ Rebecca Grahme_. Before we leave orbit I would like to give a brief orientation."

According to ship diagrams the outside vaguely resembles an elongated teardrop protruding from a horned crescent shape and twin vertical stabilizers in the rear, about half the size of most other ships in the Asgard fleet yet deceptively spacious. Rooms and facilities accommodate the needs of both species, including a fully prepared and stocked sickbay which pleases Janet.

"Pretty nice digs you have here," Jack says finally. "We sure appreciate the ride."

"You are welcome, General. In normal circumstances the ship is attached to our exploration and science vessel the _Daniel Jackson_, unless needed for special missions such as this."

"Somehow that doesn't surprise me." Jack smirks in Daniel's direction.

"Do you normally have humans accompanying you?" Sam inquires.

"On occasion, yes. In addition to my work as a linguist I perform other tasks for the High Council. Sometimes they include a human partner, though he is currently on assignment elsewhere." He consults a display. "We are about to get underway and enter hyperspace. It will take approximately two days to reach the domain of Ba'al and another to the planet Sidon under cloak."

"Sweet." Jack drops into a nearby seat, kicking back and stretching out his legs. "I hear it's nice this time of year."

* * *

Daniel wanders around the ship late the next night, unexpectedly restless. For once reading isn't helping him fall asleep.

The lounge area is empty save for Mitchell playing solitaire and Lorne checking through their gear. Both glance in his direction but neither engage in conversation, which suits him just fine.

Baldur nods a silent greeting from a console as he enters the bridge and settles on a comfortable bench. Asgard technology and ships are so quiet and smooth it's difficult to tell they're even moving, save for the outside view of hyperspace passing by in long streaks of blue.

Daniel opens his journal intending to write, but caps the pen and sets both to one side. Staring out the viewport without really seeing anything, thoughts in too much turmoil to set down on paper.

All the connection can tell him is Becky's still alive, but if Kanan and Kor'tel are right she could be undergoing torture even now. He fears for his beloved, even more than for Sha're under the influence of Amaunet and Apophis. Knowing she's being punished for no other reason than pure malice hurts more than he expected.

She may come away from this ordeal either stronger than ever, or a total wreck. And the thought it could go either way is just about killing him.

Get a grip, he tells himself finally. Quit brooding. _ Quis erit, erit_, right? What will be, will be.

He doesn't know what he can do when they find her, except love her with everything that's in him and be there when she needs shelter from the nightmares. That it's already a given she'll have nightmares makes him a little sick.

He wonders if caring for Becky would be enough of a reason to give up his place on SG-1 for good.

Resigning isn't a bad idea, to be honest. Though he loves traipsing around the galaxy with Sam and Teal'c he's been mulling it over since returning from Atlantis, when he'd miscalculated during an ambush offworld and gotten stabbed by a Genii knife for his trouble.

Daniel's eyes stray to the bracelet of stone beads on his left wrist and smiles. Not everything about that day was bad, he has to admit. And the recovery and engagement both gave him a chance to ponder.

Maybe it's best to leave while on top, so to speak. Change is in the air anyway.

They've all been feeling the press of other obligations. Sam's busier than ever with her recent promotion to Colonel and Head of Science for the SGC, not to mention her duties to Jack as Deputy General-Governor. Teal'c has been commuting on a regular basis to the Free Jaffa capitol of Dakara, as advisor to the fledgling Council of Tribes.

As for himself, well. Eleven years have passed since he stepped through the Stargate for the first time, which seems like a lifetime ago now. Despite dying and coming back to life on multiple occasions he's not immortal. And now that he has a compelling reason to keep on living his body reminds him he's not an earnest young archaeologist anymore.

Becky's aware, of course. Though she never brings it up the concern in her eyes speaks volumes, which is a more compelling argument for resigning than any words she could offer.

This could be very well be their last hurrah as a team.

But he'll wait until they get back home to inform Jack and the others. Right now there's a mission to complete.

"Hey, Daniel." Mac saunters up to him, hands casually in the pockets of his field uniform trousers. Dark circles under his eyes hint at an equally restless night.

"Hey yourself. Can't sleep?"

"Nah. Mind if I have a seat?"

"Go right ahead." He scoops up the journal and pen, stuffing them back into the capacious pockets of his jacket.

Mac perches on the other end of the bench, taking in the bridge and view of hyperspace with a faint bemused look. "Ya know, all these years and I still can't fully get the hang of this outer space stuff. Used to think all those folks who believed in abductions and alien influence on history were completely nuts. No offense."

A crooked smile. "None taken. When I first came across Nick's research the more I read the more I realized it only confirmed my gut feeling there's a deeper truth to history than anything mainstream archaeology believed."

"Turns out you and your grandfather were both right, huh? Just not about our past."

"In a way it is, though. See, the Ancients contributed to our species' genetic potential, which is why the three of you have the ATA gene. The humans of the Pegasus Galaxy are cousins in a tangential way, through them. All the human diaspora in the Milky Way- including our friends from Tarraka and even the Jaffa- are related to us, as descendants of Old Earth civilizations relocated by the Goa'uld millennia ago. Becky and I find the whole thing fascinating."

"No surprise to me. Two peas in a pod, as Harry used to say."

They share a companionable silence.

"I'm not worried about Becky," Mac says quietly. "Not as much as Jack thinks, anyway. Ever since you pulled her away from that chair in Huy-Braesealis I've accepted the fact she doesn't need me the same as when she was fourteen. She's tough. There's nothing she can't handle."

Daniel looks askance at him. Same rugged features with laugh lines and silvered hair as his brother, warm brown eyes filled with concern and compassion underlying a determined optimism. The quiet reflective drawl so similar and yet so unlike Jack's calculated deadpan delivery and Becky's wry understated observations. "Like uncles like niece, you mean."

"Yeah." He pauses. "We'll find her, Daniel. I feel it in my bones. Brooding about things we can't control does no good in the long run. We just gotta stay positive."

"You know, I'm hoping we'll have the wedding when we get back. I think we're both ready." For some reason his spirits are lifted just by admitting it out loud.

Mac grins, clapping him on the shoulder. "See? Now that's something we can look forward to." He stands up and stretches. "Whew, all of a sudden I'm ready to crash. I'm goin' back to my quarters. Sleep well."

"You, too, Mac."

He's right, of course. No use getting distracted by pointless _speculation._ Better to focus on the task at hand.

_Keep your feet on the ground, Danny._

* * *

Jack hates travel downtime during a mission.

He prefers the instantaneous nature of Gate travel, the exhilaration of stepping onto a planet without the bother of spending time getting from Point A to Point B. A chance to jump right into the action from the get-go. Though he ruefully admits it usually involved a lot of standing around waiting for Carter or Daniel to finish up whatever they're geeking out over.

He leans back in his chair, pulling out his yo-yo and doing a few half-hearted tricks before tucking it away again with a sigh. Like Danny he's having trouble keeping focused, though he's trying hard not to let it show in front of the team for morale purposes.

Thanks to the briefing they've familiarized themselves with the fortress and the adjoining encampment, including troop strength and security measures, to formulate a plan of action. So as the ship hurtles towards the planet- under cloak now since slipping past the heavily-patrolled border like a hot knife through butter- there's nothing else to do but wait.

Each member of his team has their own way of coping with the tedium. Teal'c, Mitchell and Lorne play cards. Mac and Janet chat quietly as he plays with string. Daniel has his nose in a book as usual, at times setting it down to stare into space with a preoccupied look and finger the bracelet of polished stone beads on his left wrist before picking it up again.

Watching him and Becky find a lasting love with each other has been one of Jack's secret joys over the years. Such intense introverts, they probably wouldn't have taken a chance if it weren't for circumstances beyond their control- and some judicious matchmaking on his part- bringing them together. Much like him and Sam.

The news of Becky's abduction was a punch to the gut for Jack, no less than for anyone else. Part of him is devastated knowing she's been at the mercy of that lying, scheming, slimy, over-dressed stylemonger Ba'al. Thanks to memories of his own ordeal in Iraq (which he will take to the grave, no need to inflict them on others) he has a decent idea of what she's going through, ramped up to eleven with Goa'uld tech.

It's taken every ounce of military discipline he has not to shove his fists several times through the nearest wall out of sheer frustration.

To make things worse he can't shake a nagging sense of guilt ever since she sat in the chair and downloaded all that Ancient data into her head from Huy-Braesealis. She's a better liaison for the AI than he would've been, to be sure. Yet for all that he has a feeling it should've been him there instead.

Just like now. He oughta be in her place taking one for the team, as per his duty as an officer in the NEDF. Not his poor sweetheart of a niece.

God. Enough already. He's getting maudlin, for crying out loud. This is what downtime does to him.

They'll find her. They have to.

Besides, he'd hate to see Danny suffer another broken heart like when he lost Sha're.

"Sir?" Sam's standing to one side, mugs of _klah _ steeped in matter-converted hot water in each hand.

"Thanks, Carter." He accepts the mug, sipping at the coffee-chocolate-cinnamon blend. Good thing she knows how to brew it properly.

She settles beside him, wrapping her hands around the mug as if needing the warmth. Though the temperature inside the ship's comfortable enough.

"Something on your mind, sir? You had the oddest expression on your face a second ago." Her own is so anxious he's filled with a desire to pull her close for a reassuring hug.

Not exactly appropriate for the General-Governor to embrace his Deputy while on the job, though. He settles for clinking his mug against hers.

"Nothin' much, just thinking what I wouldn't give for a cup of real coffee. Hell, even the powdered instant crap from the commissary under the Mountain sounds good. One of the things I really miss about Old Earth, ya know? Right up there with ice rinks, new episodes of _ The Simpsons _ and daily crossword puzzles in the newspaper."

"Oh, I don't know, sir. The one in the _ Gateway Weekly Tribune _ is pretty good. I haven't been asked to contribute but other scientists have. They've come up with some pretty interesting puzzles."

"Not exactly my level, Carter," he admits with a wry smile. "More like the _ Sunday New York Times _ than the _ Colorado Springs Gazette_, know what I mean? Always frustrated me I could never finish the _ Times._"

"At least it has good Sudoku and logic problems. I think Jay Felger's behind those."

Jack snorts. "Finally something he's good at."

"I'll be sure to pass your compliment along at the next departmental meeting, sir." Her deadpan's a beautiful thing.

He gives her a mock glare. "Off the record, Colonel."

"Yes, sir. Whatever you say." She grins, not the megawatt smile he adores and tries to tease out every chance he gets but bright enough to warm his heart regardless.

Bless her for being his 2IC, he doesn't know what he'd do without her. Promoting her to Colonel and creating the position of Deputy General-Governor has been one of his better decisions of late.

Maybe downtime's good for something after all. Sure can put things in perspective.

* * *

"General O'Neill, we are approaching Sidon. Any instructions?"

Jack leans over Baldur's chair, squinting at the screen. Even to Daniel it looks like any other planet terraformed by the Ancients. "They still don't know we're here, right?"

"Correct. The cloaking device has been working optimally since we crossed the border into his domain. My sensors indicate a shield has been activated around the fortress. I cannot beam you directly inside while it remains in operation, nor can you beam out."

"That makes disabling it a priority once we get in. Kanan said there's people on the inside who'll help us if they stuck around though he wouldn't give any names. Find us someplace where we can beam down."

"There is a clearing to the east of the fortress, it should be well out of sight of the sentries."

"Sounds great. Okay campers, suit up. It's showtime."

While the rest check their weapons and ammunition Mac contents himself with tucking his trusty Swiss Army Knife, roll of duck tape and a few other odds and ends in his tac vest. After all this time he still refuses to carry a gun.

Daniel has to admire his integrity. Becky's always insisted her uncle's mind is a better weapon anyway, and he's seen Mac in action enough times to know she's right.

Soon everyone- save for Janet making final preparations in the sickbay- is ready to beam down.

Jack clips his P90 to his vest before turning to address the team. "I guess now's the time to say something profound." He pauses. "All I can think of is we've never left anyone behind, and we damned well won't this time. Becky's counting on us and I for one don't want to disappoint her. Let's do this."

* * *

Jack takes a moment to catch his breath as they collect themselves before moving on. Being in the field's a lot tougher than he remembers. Or else he's just gotten too damn old for this.

Daniel's not even winded. Through the years his gawky and oft-bewildered Spacemonkey's turned into quite the action hero, though he'll always be a geek to Jack.

Indiana Jackson, he remembers teasing after watching _ Raiders of the Lost Ark _one movie night. Gotten a couple pillows thrown at him in retaliation, which naturally led to the Great Interteam Pillow-and-Tickle Battle of 2 Y.S. The memory brings a faint smile to his face.

Daniel catches it and scowls. "What's so funny, Jack?"

"Nothing. So where do we go from here?"

Before them lies a junction of two corridors at right angles to each other, wall panels of royal blue interspersed by pillars supporting beams of dull gold and elaborate wall sconces of white light. Typical Goa'uld architecture- crude, heavy and ostentatious. Guess as a species they don't care for interior designers.

Daniel blinks and glances around, getting his bearings. "Okay, according to Kanan Becky's being held three levels up. There's a lift shaft about nine meters from here in-" He taps a finger against his lips, then points to his left. "That direction."

"Then let's go." After a thorough sweep they hurry down the corridor.

The Strike Force split up a while back. He and Daniel to spring Becky from her cell, Mac and Carter to disable the shield in the basement and Teal'c, Lorne and Mitchell to plant C4 enhanced with naquadria- one of Cadman's experiments before she left for Atlantis- in strategic locations around the fortress. And hunt down Norris and Ba'al, if they had a notion.

A radio signal relayed by Baldur not long after they'd arrived indicated the _ Apollo _had just entered orbit around the planet. Jack ordered both SG-2 and 9 to beam down near the Jaffa encampment and raise a ruckus as a diversion.

Getting in had been almost too easy. Thanks to their mystery benefactor the rear entrance for the kitchen had been conveniently left ajar, the dead bodies of Jaffa guards sprawling nearby.

A fresh tip from an unnamed source of Baldur's confirmed the majority of servants have been quietly escaping into the vast dense forest surrounding the fortress by ones and twos for days. Only the Jaffa troops and select faithful lo'taur remain, so they won't have to worry overmuch about collateral damage when they bring down the house.

Jack doesn't intend to leave the place standing once they're back aboard the ship with Becky. But first they gotta find that damned traitor Norris and carry out his sentence.

And hey, if another snake or two's killed in the process then that's the icing on the cake.

* * *

The lift rocks so much from a series of massive explosions outside the fortress they have to get off on the level below Becky's cell. Peering out the nearest window they see flames and plumes of smoke in the encampment, presumably from ships parked on the landing field by the Gate. Klaxons wail and the air is filled with shouting and footsteps.

Jack and Daniel duck into an open door as a troop hustles by on a quick march.

"Sounds like they're having a Ba'al down in Jaffatown."

Daniel groans. "That's awful, Jack."

They slowly make their way down the hallway to end where it turns sharply to the right, checking each open doorway for stray guards.

Jack peeks around the corner, noticing two guards at the other end of the corridor, talking quietly. He pulls back and leans against the wall, chewing on his lower lip and considering options.

It's possible the guards will mosey along in a moment or two. Or they're just loitering, it's hard to tell.

Another quick check and they're gone, footsteps fading into the distance. He breathes a sigh of relief. "Clear. Let's go."

They make the turn and damn if they don't hear the heavy tread of armored footsteps coming their way behind them. It's a long, straight corridor and there's nowhere to hide and wait them out. No choice but to face them head on.

Three guards round the corner and stop, eyes widening at their presence. "_Tau'ri, kree shak_!"

Jack trades glances with Daniel and they raise their weapons. If the others decide to come back it'll make for a very uncomfortable sandwich and he doesn't intend to be the filling.

Both sides open fire and one guard goes down. Jack aims at the second and curses as his gun jams. "Little help here, Danny?"

"Got it, Jack." He fires and the guard collapses. Yep, quite the action hero these days.

The remaining guard raises his staff weapon, sparking with energy. Before it can discharge he cries out and crumples to the floor, shot twice from a zat in the hand of a blonde woman standing behind him, the elegance of her clothes marking her as a lo'taur. Her eyes flick over the body before focusing on them, keeping her weapon raised.

"Nice shot," Jack remarks. "I take it you're not the cleaning lady?"

"Are you really Tau'ri?" she demands in return.

"Could be," he drawls, shooting a look at Daniel before he can open his mouth. "Who wants to know?"

"I am Shallan. Did a Tok'ra named Kanan and his host Darien come to you recently?" Her expression's torn between suspicion and anxiety.

"Yes, they did," Daniel blurts out despite Jack's sharp look. "With a Free Jaffa agent named Kor'tel and a little Tarrakan girl named Penarra. They arrived safe and sound on New Earth a few days ago. Penarra is back home with her father now on their world."

She closes her eyes and sighs, lowering the zat. "They made it, thank the true gods. I will take you to Dr. Grahme. Come with me."

* * *

They follow her into a lift, going up a level. Down more corridors, encountering and taking down guards along the way.

Finally Shallan stops at a pair of opaque panels. "She is in here," indicating the left-hand door. "But I cannot tell you if she is alive or not."

Daniel's brow furrows. "I...I think she is, Jack. We have a connection, I'd know if she weren't."

Jack sighs. "Only one way to be sure. Open it, already."

She touches an inset keypad and the panel clears and slides back. The cell is dark, a single window covered with another panel of the same material providing the only light in the room, which is bare save for a cot pushed against a wall.

And its petite occupant, sitting slumped in the middle.

She slowly raises her head and stares at them, her expression forlorn as she blinks in the bright light, her voice a bare whisper. "Guys...?"

"Hey, Beck-" Jack stops short, stunned and temporarily at a loss for words.

He almost can't believe it's her. Field uniform in tatters and sliced open in places, smeared with dried blood or worse. Glasses gone and hair drooping in lank, greasy strands. Bruises show dark purple against her pale cheeks. Angry red scars over her body including her right shoulder, which is canted at an odd angle. The hollow-eyed, faintly disbelieving stare she gives them, as if not quite sure they're real.

His stomach gives a lurch. He can only stand there and stare at her, as if frozen to the spot. The last time Becky looked like this was when he'd found her and Mac right after the landslide. She's in such a bad way he wonders if the human-sized healing chamber in the sickbay can repair her.

Not telling Becky about Norris has got to count as one of his biggest blunders ever.

Daniel shoots him a glare that says _I told you so_ before striding forward and kneeling at her side, enfolding her carefully in his embrace. "It's okay, Becky, " he soothes. "I'm here. You're safe now."

"...I am?" Her voice so small and weak it nearly breaks Jack's heart all over again.

It's all he can do to steel himself, kneel beside them and gently touch her cheek like nothing's wrong. "Yeah, kiddo. You are. Hang in there, we've got you."

She moans as they cuddle her and Daniel frowns, taking a good long look at her. "Jack, she needs to see Janet right away. I'm contacting Baldur to beam us up." He pulls out his communication stone.

"Wait a sec, Danny. Let's make sure the shield's down first." He clicks on his radio. "Carter? Becky's alive but she's hurt real bad. What's the status on you and Mac getting the shield down so we can beam the hell outta here?"

"That's good to hear, sir. We're almost done, just need another minute."

"Peachy. Head to the rendezvous point soon as you finish." Also known as the clearing where they beamed down.

"Copy that, sir. Carter out."

The radio chirps. "General? Mitchell here. We've got Ba'al and his guards pinned down but Norris escaped. He's headed your way." Sounds of gunfire in the background.

Great, just what they need.

"Copy that. Shield should be down directly. I'll deal with Norris. If you can kill Ba'al that's one less snake to worry about but if you can't just get to the rendezvous point as soon as possible. Everything else in place?"

"Everything's ready, sir. We're on our way. Mitchell out."

Another chirp. Getting to be like Grand Central Station. "Jack? It's Mac. Shield's down."

That's more like it. "Terrific. You and Carter get your butts outta there, we'll blow the place up after we're aboard the ship."

"Gotcha. See you soon."

Then Norris barges into the room in a black-and-gold uniform, knife drawn and rage burning in those weird colorless eyes that have always given him the creeps. Shoving his way past both of them to make a grab for Becky.

Jack has a hard time wrapping his head around what happens next. Because without warning his thoughtful, gentle, mild-mannered niece suddenly goes-

Well, wacko is the only way he can think of it.

She rolls to one side of Norris like she just got a second wind, scooping something up from a shadowed corner. Standing on her own two feet, the hallway light glinting off a blade in her left hand, eyes wild and determination plain on her battered face. Broken but not bent.

Jack shares a worried glance with Daniel, unsure whether to intervene or not. This has been her battle all along and Norris is her enemy but they gotta do _something_, right?

The guy glares at her. "This is all your fault, brat! I'll kill you now!"

"No," she says, eerily calm. "No more torture, no more pain. I'm not afraid of you." In seconds she has him pinned to the floor, knife raised to strike through his heart.

Even as Jack takes pride in her bravery and resilience the fierce glint in her eyes sends a chill down his spine. Like looking in a mirror.

Why is it he's never realized before now just how much influence he and Mac had in shaping her life after her parents were gone? She's come a long way from the timid, quiet and and painfully shy teenager at their funeral.

One thing's for sure. Norris has been condemned to death for his treason but Becky can't be his executioner. It's not in her nature to kill.

As before Daniel manages to shake off his own shock and approach her. Calmly talking her down from the edge with all the patience and sensitivity he can muster. Sharing a significant look with Jack as he promises Norris won't hurt her again.

He lets out the breath he's been holding without realizing it when she drops the knife and allows Daniel to pull her into his arms. That was close.

Now it's time to do his duty.

Norris sneers at the sight but subsides when Jack fixes him with one of his patented glares. "Danny, get Becky outta here. I'll beam up in a bit, just got a little business to wrap up here first. Don't give Janet too hard a time or otherwise she'll break out the big needles."

Daniel rolls his eyes but nods. Holding her to him with one arm he raises the communication stone above his head with the other and presses it, hard. They disappear in a flash of white light.

While Jack's staring thoughtfully in their direction Norris scrambles to his feet and bolts out of the cell. An outraged squawk and Teal'c strides through the doorway, holding him in the air with ease while Shallan watches from the side with keen interest. "O'Neill, the _shol'va_ Albert Norris was attempting to escape. I have brought him back for you to carry out his sentence."

"Thanks, T. Set him down, willya?"

He does, none too gently. Norris stumbles upright, straightening his ill-fitting uniform. "General, I can help you. I know everything about Ba'al and his operations, plenty of intel you can use against him."

Shallan's lip curls in contempt. "That is exactly what you said to him about the Tau'ri after killing his previous advisor."

Jack grimaces. Figures. Trusting a double agent is never a good idea.

He crosses his arms and stares down his nose at the disgraced former lieutenant, easy to do since he's at least three inches shorter. "Goddammit, Norris. I didn't like you before Zero Hour and now you're more a pain in the butt than ever. Not to mention the most pathetic excuse for a human being I've ever seen. And the fact you hurt a valuable member of the SGC for kicks- who just happens to be my niece- makes it that much worse."

The guy has the nerve to sneer at his words. "And your opinion matters, because...?"

"Oh, for crying out loud. Why do I bother?" Jack draws his sidearm and cocks it. "Albert Norris, you have been charged, tried and found guilty _in absentia_ of high treason against Stargate Command, the New Earth Defense Force and Gateway Settlement. Not to mention assault, murder in the first degree and too many other nasty crimes to count. I'm not even gonna ask for any last words. I'll just carry out the sentence right now."

Norris turns to run but Teal'c shoves him back in the direction of Jack's gun. One shot in the head and he crumples to the ground.

Teal'c nods in satisfaction. "Justice has been served, O'Neill. I approve."

"Thanks, T." He holsters the weapon and checks his watch. "We'd better get goin'. Everyone's probably waiting for us at the rendezvous point by now."

Teal'c joins him but Shallan lags behind, her expression torn.

Jack turns to her. "Hey, you comin'? We're about to bring the house down and believe me, you don't wanna stick around."

She looks a little bewildered. "I have no master anymore. There is nowhere for me to go."

"For this you can stay with us. Let's go, already."

"A familiar exchange, O'Neill," Teal'c notes, looking distinctly amused.

Jack grins. "Yeah, just like old times, huh? C'mon kids, let's meet up with the others. Can't wait to blow this joint to kingdom come."

* * *

Carter's gingerly dabbing a gauze pad to a spot on Mac's head as they arrive back in the clearing. Jack raises an eyebrow and he shrugs. "Got smacked by a branch on the way here. Did you find Becky?"

"And where's Daniel, sir?" she adds, her gaze shifting around as if he were hiding behind a tree.

"Both up on the ship already, Janet's checking her out." He waves his hand towards the lo'taur. "Folks, this is Shallan, she helped us out." She nods a hesitant greeting. "Everyone okay?"

"Still in one piece, sir," Mitchell says cheerfully enough, right cheek sporting a few scrapes. Lorne's leaning heavily against him, limping from a sprained ankle. "Ba'al slipped away before we could nail him, though. Sorry."

"You gave it your best shot, Colonel. I have no complaints. He'll get his sooner or later, I have no doubt."

"What about Norris, sir?" Lorne pipes up.

"His sentence was carried out, Colonel Lorne," Teal'c replies calmly. "Albert Norris is deceased."

Everyone nods grim approval, including Mac.

Jack clicks on his radio. "O'Neill to Baldur. We're about ready to beam up but we've got a little something to do first. By the way, there's an extra passenger."

"Very well, General. I have heard from the _Apollo_ that Strike Force B is back aboard their ship with no loss of life and much damage to the encampment. Also, an Al'kesh has been spotted lifting off from the planet and moving through the solar system. Have they permission to pursue?"

"Sounds like Ba'al's making his escape. Tell 'em to blast it out of the sky and scoot on back to New Earth. We'll be up in a sec."

Mac catches his arm, asking in a low voice, "Jack- how is Becky? Really?"

The anxiety in his twin's eyes matches his own. He grimaces. "Tell ya later. Mitchell, we ready to rumble?"

He pulls the remote detonator from his tac vest and hands it over with a grin. "Yes, sir. Set to go off in five-second intervals after the first one is activated. Care to do the honors?"

"Yeah, sure you betcha." He faces the fortress, holding the remote high and pressing the button. Time for the final act.

_ This one's for you, kiddo. _

The resulting explosion is supremely satisfying to everyone.

And so is seeing the massive plume of smoke from orbit once they're aboard, as the fortress collapses in on itself.

Jack nods in satisfaction. "Mission accomplished, campers. Let's go home."

* * *

One more day aboard the good ship _ Rebecca Grahme_, en route back to New Earth, its namesake still unconscious in the healing chamber. Daniel's barely left her side the whole time.

Jack had looked in on Becky right after beaming up, a gently swirling opaque mist covering her body from the shoulders down. Wounds knitting themselves together and bruises already fading, though with a bit of tension around the corners of her eyes and mouth. According to Janet she's progressing nicely though she may yet require physical therapy for her shoulder later on.

The potential state of her mind when she wakes up is far less certain.

Jack's heart goes out to her, poor sweetheart. She's been put through the wringer, same as him back in the day. Not something he ever expected her to inherit.

He knows from experience the physical suffering may be over but the mental portion's just beginning. As if there isn't enough nightmare fodder in her life already.

Good thing Danny's watching out for her.

Eventually the memories will fade but in the meantime she'll need all the help she can get to process the ordeal and move forward. So he'll provide it, same as for anyone else under his command: sessions with Heightmeyer, space to soothe her introverted soul, the endless, loving support of her friends and extended family.

Not that he'd done anything like that for himself when it came to his captivity in Iraq, or even when Charlie died, closed up tight so nothing could get in that might cause more damage to his soul. Which in retrospect probably contributed in a major way to his divorce.

He likes to think he's grown a little since then. Interstellar travel and being exposed to alien tech and weird environments does kinda broaden the mind, after all.

And- since he's being honest with himself for once- there's no doubt Carter's played a part in his emotional growth.

"Um, Jack? Can I join you?" Her smile is a little tentative. Only when they're alone or off-duty do they call each other by their first names. Old habits die hard.

He flashes a lazy grin, scoots over to make space on the observation bench. "Have a seat, Sam."

She slides right beside him and lets him slip an arm around her and pull her close. Because the mission's completed and everyone else is in their quarters or otherwise occupied they can risk a public display of affection or two. Baldur won't mind.

"Peaceful, isn't it," he says after a while.

"Uh-huh. We don't often have this kind of downtime after a mission. It's nice."

A companionable silence stretches between them, savoring the proximity of each other's presence. He takes the time to marvel at the amazing woman by his side. Fellow officer, teammate, friend and lover.

Over the years she's managed to keep him grounded, repair his shattered heart and soul. Helped him learn to love again, just by having his six every time he needed her. And even when he didn't.

If not for the apocalypse Jack figures that a combination of duties, regulations and circumstances would've surely kept them apart, to the point of seeking solace elsewhere. Realizing too late they were only pitiful substitutes for what could've been.

Good thing they came to their senses right after Zero Hour. He can't imagine life without this gorgeous, vibrant, incredibly talented and passionate woman by his side.

Maybe he should make it official. Get down on his creaky knees and propose, the whole nine yards. He's the General-Governor for crying out loud, he can do whatever he wants.

Come to think of it, why not right here and now? It's not like either of them are getting any younger.

If there's anything the past several years have taught him it's to seize the day, and hold on to it with everything he's got.

"Hey, I've been thinking-"

"That's dangerous, you know. Wouldn't want to short out your brain." He loves that wicked glint in her eyes when she's teasing.

"Very funny. Anyway, I've been thinking about us."

"You mean how much we've changed since that first meeting in the briefing room under the Mountain? I don't know about that, Jack. You still don't care for scientists much." Her light tone makes him smile.

"Well now, that's where you're wrong," he says in an arch manner. "I care for a few scientists. A very select few." He pauses for effect. "Like the ones I want to marry, for instance."

Sapphire eyes widen. Her perfect mouth gapes open. "Jack- are you seriously proposing to me?"

"Yep." He eases himself off the bench and gingerly onto one knee, taking her hands in his. "I know I don't say it out loud much but I'm saying it now. Samantha Carter, I love you in more ways than there are stars in the sky. I want us to be together for always. Marry me, please."

She only blinks at him, silent for a long time. Jack can tell she's mulling over the question. Formulating theories, testing them against existing data. Coming to a conclusion he hopes is the right one.

"Okay."

He blinks, his eyebrows lifting almost to his hairline. "Okay?"

Ah, now there's that megawatt smile. "Okay, Jack. I'll marry you. I just have one question."

"Name it," he says, sheer happiness fit to burst through his chest. Anything she wants, he'll get it. Even find another sun for her to blow up.

"Should we tell everyone tomorrow? Or keep it quiet?"

Ah. Good question.

He purses his lips, considering. It's no battlefield or infirmary engagement with plenty of witnesses. This is just between the two of them, intimate and perfect. Baldur's not even paying attention.

"I think we should keep this just between ourselves for now. Have a private ceremony another time. Wouldn't want to steal the spotlight from the lovebirds, after all," nodding in the direction of the infirmary.

"You think they'll marry soon?"

"Mac said Danny told him they were ready. Only that was before we found her in the cell."

"I'm sure she'll be just fine, Daniel will take care of her. I'm glad they have each other."

"Me, too." He'd be content just to stare forever into her eyes like this, only there's one nagging little problem-

"Um, Jack? Could you do me a favor?"

"Sure, but shouldn't we be back in our quarters for what you have in mind? I mean, we wouldn't want to scandalize Baldur or anything."

She rolls her eyes at his leering smirk. "Get up off those aching knees of yours and kiss me, buster."

"Yes, ma'am." He rises to his feet, pulling her up with him. Holding her tight as their lips meet for a long, tender exploration, their bodies framed by the streaming blue light of hyperspace. Beautiful.

The day's definitely looking a lot more peachy.

* * *

_Notes:_

_The display of New Earth-style charcuterie was inspired by the delicious Pegasus version in On Board by Brumeier. Tormack is a fictional Pegasus root vegetable, mentioned in The Lure of Tormack by Goddess47. Both stories can be found on AO3.  
_

_In pre-Christian Old Norse mythology, Forseti was the god of justice and reconciliation. So of course he's one of the Asgard here._

_As always, please see A Linguist's Guide to New Earth on AO3 for translations and explanations of certain concepts._


End file.
